Always Faithful
by Sweet Little Mary Sue
Summary: Tommy Conlon was a free man, he'd done nothing for which he ought to be ashamed, but would he ever be able to walk with his head held high? Lily Lewis was kind of a goofball, a woman who was the baby of her family, and also the wild card, the black sheep, the one who'd always fought against the grain and swam against the tide...Tommy/OC.
1. Chapter One

Always Faithful

Sweet Little Mary Sue

Synopsis: Tommy Conlon was a free man, he'd done nothing for which he ought to be ashamed, but would he ever be able to walk with his head held high? Lily Lewis was kind of a goofball, a woman who was the baby of her family, and also the wild card, the black sheep, the one who'd always fought against the grain and swam against the tide. Had she finally found someone who would understand her and accept her for who she wanted to be? And would she have the strength to stand up against her family's wishes one more time, now that she stood to lose so much if she didn't?

Disclaimer: I can't claim any part of _Warrior_ as my own. I am simply borrowing the characters to tell this story (though I would be more than happy to keep Tommy, if that would be okay). The only things that belong to me are my OC, Lily, and everyone in her family.

*This story is rated M for violence, mild to moderate cursing and a variety of citrusy smut*

Chapter One

Lily's POV

I took a deep breath and pressed my finger against the button that rested by his front door and winced a little when I heard the chime ringing throughout his apartment. It seemed to be louder than a doorbell ought to be, it seemed a lot louder than my own buzzer was, but maybe that was because I was calling on him unannounced, one complete stranger trespassing on another, to offer a plateful of homemade brownies, all with the ulterior motive of getting an up-close and personal look at the celebrity who was now my next-door neighbor.

I shifted nervously from one foot to the other, until it dawned on me that I would undoubtedly give the impression of someone who needed desperately to pee, if he was to open the door at that moment, so I nipped my movements in the bud, only to find myself whistling and tapping my toe just a couple of seconds later. Maybe it was for the best that he wasn't answering the door, because God only knew what I was capable of when I saw him face-to-face. The list of possibilities for what I might do to thoroughly humiliate myself was endless, and best left to the imagination, I suppose, but if that was the truth, then why in hell did I feel the need to ring the damned doorbell again?

I'd never been someone who struggled with impulse control problems, I'd always been able to keep a firm grip on my thoughts and my actions, but you'd never know it with the way that I was acting at that moment. I had a good idea that he was home, so I ought to have recognized his failure to answer the first summons as an indication that he wanted to be left alone…but it could also mean that he was in the shower, and might come to the door bare-chested, with a towel resting low on his hips, just barely covering his…..

"For crying out loud, woman, get a grip on yourself, will you?" I hissed, knowing, without a shadow of a doubt, that my face was a humiliating shade of red, given the heat that I could feel radiating from it. "You've seen his bare chest before, along with God only knows how many other people. How different can it be with a towel instead of shorts…oh, Lord…yep, there it is. That's definitely a change of pace, isn't it?"

I'd always enjoyed the benefits of an active imagination, it was one of the things that I'd loved best about myself, but there were times such as this one when it was more of a hindrance than a help. I had to present myself as a friendly and stable individual, that is, I did if he ever bothered to answer the door, and my chances of doing so were slim indeed if I didn't chase the image of him standing in the doorway, wearing nothing more than a skimpy towel and a big smile, from my mind.

"That doesn't make any sense anyway," I told myself, shifting the platter of brownies from one hand to the other and flexing my fingers, which had grown tired from holding the tray of goodies for so long. "When did he ever smile when they showed him on TV? Okay, okay, there was that one time, but chances are pretty good that it might have been gas….."

I realized in that moment that I'd been mistaken when I thought that it would have been the worst thing possible for Tommy Conlon to open the door and find me with a bright red blush on my face, because it was so much worse for him to open it in time to hear me utter the word _gas_ aloud. I knew then that the flush that I'd worn before had been a pale facsimile of all that was possible from a genuine blush, which was what was covering my face, and my ears, and my neck at that moment, while I searched, in vain, for a hole to dive into, so that I could hide from the world while I died in peace.

He wasn't decked out in a skimpy towel, he wasn't even bare-chested, and he was staring at me in a way that suggested that he was about five seconds, at the very most, away from calling the men in white coats to come and drag me away from his front door, and who could blame him? I would undoubtedly have the same reaction if I was to answer a summons to my front door and find some person who was obviously cracked in the head, holding a tray of God only knew what, while she was babbling to herself about gas.

"Can I help you with something?" he asked quietly, holding one hand on the doorknob, in a manner that said that he was ready to flee back inside the safety of his home at the first sign that I was on the verge of going batshit crazy, and who could blame him for taking that precaution? It bespoke of common sense on his part, but I didn't want him to leave until I managed to convince him that I was a perfectly sane, albeit slightly strange person, so I knew that I had to take these next crucial steps very slowly, and allow myself to think of each and every word before I spoke it aloud.

"I'm really sorry to barge in on you like this. I just wanted to introduce myself, because I'm your next-door neighbor, and I thought that I ought to stop by and say hello and bring you a little housewarming gift. I hope that you like turtle brownies, because that's what I brought you. They're my personal favorite, but not everyone shares the same taste and….."

I realized that I was babbling, and that wasn't a good thing for me to be doing if I was going to convince him that I was at least halfway normal. He was also staring at the platter in my hands as if he expected it to vomit on him at any moment. Seriously, he was looking at it like he was disgusted by it, or, perhaps, by its contents, and it dawned on me that he possibly disliked brownies, no, that he positively _loathed_ them, and I wished, not for the first time, that I stayed with something simple, like sugar cookies, because honestly, who didn't like sugar cookies?

"You don't have to eat them, you know," I said, slowly backing away, so as not to offend him any further. "It won't hurt my feelings if you don't want them. I was just trying to be friendly and welcome you to the neighborhood….."

"Do they really have turtles in them?" he murmured, staring at the platter a moment longer, before he raised his eyes to mine. "I like chocolate, but I'm pretty sure that I wouldn't like turtles."

It always embarrassed me to snort when I laughed, but it was something that tended to happen in moments like this one, the times when I was trying my hardest to give the impression that I wasn't a dork. It also occurred to me that laughing at him wasn't the politest thing that I could do either, which was probably why I'd snorted in the first place, but the thought of putting ground up turtle in my brownies tickled me…at the same time that it made me feel sick to my stomach.

"They're turtle brownies because they have caramel and pecans in the center, like the Turtle candy," I explained, painfully aware of the fact that he hadn't laughed, that he hadn't even cracked a smile, which meant that he hadn't found the situation nearly as humorous as I had, not that I'd expected him to. "They're really very good, if I do say so myself….."

My voice trailed away when I remembered that I hated when people bragged on their own cooking. That was one of the reasons that I had so much trouble watching most of the shows on Food Network that were hosted by a famous chef, because they would inevitably taste what they'd made and blissfully close their eyes and make orgasmic sounds, before they declared that the bite of whatever they'd made was the most sublime thing that they'd ever tasted, and I would be disgusted by their blatant show of conceit…oh, God…I'd done it again, I'd drifted off into my own thoughts, and now he was watching me again, with that look that said that I frightened him.

"…..but you don't need to feel obligated to accept them, if you don't want to," I continued, as if I hadn't paused for more than a second. "I imagine that you have a lot that you need to do, and I'm keeping you from unpacking or cleaning, or possibly even a combination of the two, so I'll leave you in peace….."

"You never told me your name," he said quietly, reaching out to take the platter of brownies from my hands. "You said that you came to introduce yourself, but you haven't told me your name."

I was such an idiot. This wasn't the first time that I'd been hit with that realization, but this _was_ the first time that _he_ had…that is, it was, if he hadn't already drawn that conclusion the moment that he'd opened his front door and found me talking to myself about gas.

"I'm Lily Lewis," I said, holding out my hand and blushing all over again when I felt his warm and calloused hand close around mine. I was so glad that his skin wasn't soft, because I really disliked men who had palms that felt like they belonged to a woman, not that I had expected _him_ to have hands like that. I would have been happy to hold his hand for the rest of the day, but the moment passed by in a heartbeat, and no matter how hard I tried, I just couldn't think of a good excuse that would necessitate me grabbing him again.

"Tommy Conlon," he answered, with a twitch of his mouth that wasn't quite a smile, but which wasn't a frown either. "Thanks for the brownies that don't have turtles in them, and thanks for introducing yourself. I _was_ cleaning and unpacking, but I don't mind stopping for a little break."

His words weren't exactly ones that said that he was pleased to see and meet me, but they weren't ones that told me that I was a pain in his butt, or ones that demanded that I scram and get out of his sight, because I disgusted him either. He'd also taken the non-turtle turtle brownies, which meant that he must have meant to eat them…unless he'd just taken them to be polite, that is.

"Well, I guess I'd better let you get back to work," I said, slowly backing away from him and waiting for him to step back inside, but he moved _out_side instead, and held open the door, in a way that I took as an invitation, or, rather, that I hoped was one.

"You can come in, if you want to," he said, and I forced myself to calmly close the space between my feet and his front door, reminding myself that I had to be relaxed and composed, even if I felt like launching myself into the spastic gyrations that I referred to as "Lily's Dance Of Happy". The dance always irritated my family, and they loved me, so it was inevitable that displaying it in front of Tommy would have him retracting his invitation in a heartbeat. I would wait until later, until I was by myself, where no one would see or judge me, I could do that…couldn't I?

Tommy's POV

It was kind of depressing to see what my life had come to, if I was to judge things based on my belongings. I had the basics to fill each room, but there wasn't much in the way of things that were personal or which had any meaning. I didn't have any knickknacks, nothing that I'd collected in my travels from here to there, then across the ocean and back, but that wasn't a bad thing, was it? That sort of junk just gathered dust, and who wanted to clean them, right? I didn't have a collection of photos like Pop either, I only had the one of me and Manny, but that was alright with me, because that was really the only one that I needed, at least it was, to my way of thinking.

The doorbell had caught me off-guard, and it had irritated me as well, because I'd immediately jumped to the conclusion that it was a reporter who'd come to bother me, someone that wanted to hear my story and ask me how the changes in my life had affected me, how losing Manny and the others had made me feel, and other assorted bullshit questions that pissed me off, and I just wasn't in the mood for that right now. The truth was that I was _never_ in the mood for their crap, and I couldn't help but hope for the day that they would forget that I'd ever existed, and maybe then I'd have a little bit of peace.

It dawned on me that it might have been Pop who'd tracked me down, or maybe Brendan, and that wasn't any better than the prospect of having a reporter shout questions at me through the door. I knew that they both wanted to try out the whole _reconciliation_ thing, and I could see where they were coming from, I really could, but I just wasn't ready to take that step, not yet, not when everything was still so new and raw and hurt so damned much.

I'd made my way to the front door, all set to send away whoever of the three that I found there, but then I got an eyeful of the woman on the other side of the door through the peephole, and knew, in an instant, that she wasn't a reporter. They brought cameramen with them, and big black bags, and were usually dressed in expensive suits, with perfectly groomed hair and heavy makeup. This woman was wearing jeans and a t-shirt and her hair was pulled back in a ponytail. She looked like she was wearing makeup, but not the caked on crap that reporters wore. And she didn't have the big black bag either, she was carrying a plate covered with aluminum foil instead, and I'd had a good idea that she wasn't using it to hide a microphone.

I must have watched her for a minute or two, and she moved around the whole time, first from one foot to the other, then she shuffled the foil covered platter from one hand to the other, and I could see that her lips were moving almost the whole time as well, like she was talking to herself, and for just a moment I considered ignoring her until she went away, just in case she was nuts.

I can't say for certain what had made me open the door in the end, maybe it was because she was pretty, and it had been a long time since I'd been around that sort of person. Maybe it was because it was the polite thing to do, to greet her before I determined whether or not I'd tell her to get the hell away from me. Maybe, deep down, I knew that I wanted company, that I wanted someone to talk to. Either way, I told myself that it was okay, I told myself that she wasn't nuts, and I opened the door, just in time to hear her talking about gas…hmm, maybe I'd ruled that she was sane a bit too soon, don't you think?

* * *

"Have a seat," I said, gesturing widely around the room, so that she would understand that she could sit in the living room or at the table, whichever she preferred. "I think I'll try one of these brownies right now, if you don't mind. Would you like the join me?"

She chose the couch, but she didn't sit down like someone who was comfortable. She slowly lowered herself down, in a way that said that she was afraid the pressure of her ass on the cushion might detonate some hidden charge and blow her sky-high, and I felt a nearly overwhelming urge to laugh at her, and that surprised me, because it had been a long damned time since I'd felt the urge to laugh about anything.

"No," she said, then blushed and carefully shifted from one butt cheek to the other. "That is, I mean, no, I don't mind if you try one, but I don't think that I ought to, that is, that I need to have one with you, because I brought them for you, and it wouldn't be polite for me to take something for myself that I'd made for you, now would it?"

She was a chatty woman, that's for sure, so much so that she made my head spin, and it ought to have irritated me, it ought to have had me scrambling to throw her out, but for some weird reason I found that I actually enjoyed listening to her babble. It was another thing that she did that threatened to make me smile, and I tried to remember the last time that I'd wanted to do so in such a short amount of time.

"I'm going to have some milk with mine," I told her, moving into the kitchen and taking two glasses down out of the cabinet. "Would you like some milk with yours, or would you prefer water instead?"

She was quiet for a moment or two, and I imagined that was the longest time that she'd been silent for so long, when she wasn't asleep, that is. "Milk will be fine," she called to me after that moment of hesitation, followed by more chattering. "I mean, you don't have to get me any milk, because I don't have to have any of the brownies. I already had three before I brought these to you, and I really don't need anymore, do I….?"

She continued to blab, but I tuned her out as I filled both glasses to the brim and placed brownies on the little saucers that were supposed to hold teacups, two for her and five for me. That would place us on even ground, which seemed fair to me, and that still left me with ten more brownies that I wouldn't have to share with anyone.

"Here you go," I said, placing her glass and plate on the coffee table in front of her, smiling to myself as her words died away while she stared at what I'd offered her with eyes that had widened until they seemed to cover the entire upper half of her face.

I took a seat in the big, comfy recliner that I'd bought for myself and immediately took a bite out of a brownie, expecting the sweet that I knew and loved and finding something altogether different, something that made me close my eyes in bliss. It was everything that I knew and loved, but the buttery, slightly salty caramel and the toasted pecans in the center made for a taste experience that was, for lack of a better word, downright heavenly, and I scarfed down all five in about thirty seconds, without wasting time on the milk, and I was in the process of draining my glass before I remembered that I wasn't alone in the room and I opened my eyes to look at Lily and found her staring at me, instead of at the glass and the saucer, with the same wide eyes and dumbfounded look.

"Aren't you going to eat yours?" I asked self-consciously, knowing that I'd made a complete pig of myself. "They're really good."

That probably wasn't the best thing that I could have said, but my mind was kind of fuzzy at the moment, and I had to work with the material that I had, no matter how crappy it was. "Your milk is going to get warm if you just let it sit there, you know?" Hmm, that wasn't the wittiest thing that I could have said either, in fact it was even worse than the bit about the brownies, wasn't it? Maybe I ought to just keep my mouth shut, maybe that was the best course of action, to wait for her to speak…but why wasn't she talking, for crying out loud? Just a few minutes ago she'd been chattering nonstop, but now her lips were sealed. What was up with that, and furthermore, why the hell did I care?

"Thanks," she said suddenly, and her eyes went back to normal, and then reflected the smile that took hold of her lips. "But one is all that I need, so you can have the other one, if you want it."

"I'll save it for later," I told her, settling back in my chair and rubbing my hand on my stomach. I would have liked to have had it then, but I'd already made a glutton of myself.

I could see that she was self-conscious to eat in front of me, so I was careful to keep my eyes off of her until she was finished; filling the time with the sort of polite chitchat that normally irritated the hell out of me. It was the strangest thing, to have woken this morning in a dinky, dingy motel room, then traveled to my new apartment, with no desire other than to be left alone, to heal as best as I could on my own, before I had to return to the world and live and work amongst others, like a normal person, only to find myself entertaining my next-door neighbor, who'd come over uninvited, and find that not only did I not mind her company, but that I actually enjoyed it as well…who would have thought that such a thing was possible?


	2. Chapter Two

Chapter Two

Tommy's POV

I was sitting in the waiting room, flipping through a copy of _Sport's Illustrated_, patiently killing time until it was my turn to see Dr. Montgomery, when I felt the back of my neck tingling, a feeling that acted as a telltale sign to warn me that I was being watched. I'd never liked to be the center of attention, but it was something that happened with an annoying frequency since Sparta…since my very public fall from grace.

Ordinarily I would have ignored the one who was staring at me to the best of my ability, but I'd gotten off to a bad start today, and I decided that I was going to confront them head-on. I slowly raised my eyes, expecting to find another reporter, or someone who took exception to the way that I'd chosen to _disgrace_ myself, so it came as a shock to find a kid staring at me instead, with a big, cheesy grin on his face, proudly displaying the gap in the front where his teeth were missing.

I wasn't all that keen on the notion of being mean and nasty to a kid, but I didn't want to encourage him to tell me his life story either, or to ask me a thousand questions, so I fixed him with a look that was only slightly hostile in nature in the hopes that it would help to discourage him from making me his new best friend, but damned if he didn't keep on smiling, as a matter of fact, his grin grew even brighter, and he waved his hand back and forth in greeting.

"I know you," he whispered excitedly, hopping off of his chair to take a seat beside me. "You're Tommy Conlon. You almost won Sparta, but then your brother busted your shoulder and stole the prize away from you. I guess that's why you're here to see Dr. Montgomery, huh? He's my dad's doctor. He's a pretty good doctor, I guess, but he's also kind of old. He reminds me of my grandpa, only he doesn't give me a quarter when he sees me….."

I could feel my eyes glazing over and my eardrums jangling while I listened to him chatter on and on, and almost smiled, because his motor mouth reminded me of my neighbor, Lily. That was as far as the similarity went, but it was enough to make me remember the way her eyes lit up when she smiled, and how good she'd smelled when I'd opened my front door, a scent that had been soft and feminine, mixed with chocolate, which made for one hell of a tempting mix.

"…..I'm going to be a fighter when I get older too, and I'm going to be president, and I'm going to fly to the moon, and I'm going to be a zillionaire and marry the prettiest woman on the whole Earth and….."

Damn, was he ever going to get tired of jabbering? Granted, I wasn't all that familiar with kids, but most of the ones that I'd seen looked like they didn't talk nonstop, and thinking back on my own childhood, I knew that I hadn't, and neither had Brendan, which made me wonder why this kid felt the need to talk my ear off, especially about stuff that I had no interest in thinking about, like everything that had gone down in Atlantic City.

"So, I guess that means that you're going to be famous someday, doesn't it?" I asked quietly, tossing the magazine that I'd been reading back onto the coffee table in front of me, because it was obvious that I wasn't going to be able to finish the article now that I had company. "It's too bad that I don't know your name, so that I could tell everybody that I knew you when you were just a kid with no front teeth."

I thought for a moment that I might have hurt his feelings by mentioning his missing teeth, for just a second his smile went away, and I started to feel like a jerk, but then it returned full force and I knew that everything was just fine. It was kind of funny that I even cared, because there was a time when it wouldn't have bothered me whose feelings I hurt…well, at least that's what I told myself, though I had a good idea that both me and myself knew that _I_ was full of shit.

"Brad Thomas," he said, holding out his hand to me, in the fashion that any man would use when he introduced himself, at least, the way that one who'd been raised right would. "I'm sorry that you lost Sparta. I thought that you should have won, I was cheering for you to win, but it doesn't mean that you're a loser, just because you didn't, you know. My dad says that the thing that really matters is whether or not you tried to do your best, though Shane Dodson said that was something that losers made up to make them feel better about being pathetic. What do you think, Mr. Conlon?"

I couldn't recall the last time anyone had asked me for my opinion, but then, I couldn't remember a time at any point in my life where I'd been someone that kids looked up to, but here was the proof that at least one little boy saw me as someone who he admired, and, surprisingly enough, I wasn't bothered at all by that knowledge, as a matter of fact, I was almost proud that he saw me in that light.

"Winning a competition isn't what makes you the kind of man that you are," I told him, which was my version of the truth, though I wasn't certain how many people would agree with me. "It's your actions that decide who you'll be, and when you do anything in life, you should always do it to the best of your abilities, not only for the one who's depending on you to do so, but for yourself as well. And there has to be a winner and a loser in everything, in every part of life, but that doesn't mean that a person is pathetic. What's pathetic is when you can't think of anything _but_ winning, and you get happiness out of hurting other people."

I wasn't used to talking so much all at once, but I guess it made it a little easier when the one that you were speaking to was hanging on your every word. It had annoyed me to begin with, when he'd started talking to me, and I'd initially thought that I'd rather be anywhere else, as long as it was free of little kids, well, of anyone, really, who wanted to stare at me and ask me a million questions when they weren't blabbing a mile a minute about crap that I could care less about, but now, surprisingly, I found that I liked talking to him…go figure, huh?

"Yeah, that's what I think, and what my dad thinks, so it's got to be right, doesn't it, if all three of us think the same thing?" he asked, moving closer to me and reaching out a hand, placing it hesitantly on my bicep and squeezing, his eyes going wide as he tested the size and strength of my muscle with his palm. "Wow, it must have taken you a long time to get muscles like that. Do you think that my arms will ever be as big as yours are?"

I started to tell him that mine were not all that big in comparison to some, but I was distracted by the sight of a man who was slowly walking toward us, leaning on a cane. His hair was blond, and his eyes were the same bright blue as the kid who was sitting beside me, and it dawned on me that he must be Brad's father, and I wondered how he was going to react to the sight of his son sitting next to, and talking and _touching_ a complete stranger.

"Dad!" the boy shouted, jumping off of his seat to run toward his father, his little legs pumping hard, enabling him to cross the floor in a couple of seconds. "You've got to come and say hi to Mr. Conlon. Can you believe that it's really him? And he can talk just fine, and he's really nice, and the muscles in his arm are huge. I bet that he could squash me easy, if he wanted to, but I don't think that he wants to, Dad, else he would have done it already, wouldn't he?"

This would have been the perfect moment for the nurse to open the door and call me back. That would spare me and Mr. Thomas the awkwardness of him having to pretend that I was even half as awesome as his son believed me to be. Unfortunately it seemed that Dr. Montgomery was running late on his appointments, which meant that I had to stay right where I was, but then Brad's father surprised me by smiling and holding out his hand to mine, in the same gesture that his son had used.

"I'm honored to meet you, Staff Sergeant Conlon," he said, turning loose a smile that was a twin to his son's. "Our family was rooting for you to win, and we were sorry when you didn't….."

"It's just _Mr_. Conlon now," I interrupted, returning the handshake with one of my own, though I couldn't muster even a hint of the smile. "The rank was taken, along with everything else, when they….."

"I know what they did, and I, for one, think that it was disgraceful of them to treat you like a common criminal, when what you did took a hell of a lot of guts, at least it did as far as I'm concerned, and that's from one brother to another, sir."

"You're in the Corps?" I asked, even though I knew that it was a stupid question, one of those that you asked when you didn't know what you ought to say to fill the silence.

"Corporal Paul Thomas, sir. I served for three years, until all those old football injuries caught up with me. I blew out my knee my junior year of high school, and I thought that everything was set right, but it turns out that the injury was a lot worse than they originally believed it to be. Dr. Montgomery has been working hard to put me back to right, and I hope to be completely healed within a year, at the most."

I'd never been all that good at carrying my end of a conversation, I'd pretty much felt awkward talking to anyone for any length of time, unless it was with Manny, and I'd just reached the point where I was thinking, _Okay, now what_?, but thankfully the nurse chose that moment to stick her head out and call my name, which spared me from the awkwardness of chitchatting about the weather, or any of the other nonsense that people talked about to fill the void in the conversation.

"Well, you take care of yourself, Staff Sergeant," Paul said, shaking my hand again, and placing a card with his name, number and address against my palm. "And don't hesitate to call if you need anything at all."

I wasn't accustomed to receiving an act of common courtesy and kindness, and I appreciated the gesture more than I could say, so I made do with, "Thanks, Corporal. You take care of that knee and watch out for the little slugger here."

I shook the boy's hand, then reached up, on an impulse, and tousled his hair as well. "It was good to meet you, Brad Thomas," I said, then felt self-conscious as hell when I noticed that there were a good amount of people who were waiting to see one doctor or the other, and they were all watching me. "Don't forget me when you're grown up and famous, alright?"

I hated to say goodbye even more than I hated to say hello, so I didn't wait for him to answer me. I turned, and started to walk away from him, then almost choked on a laugh when I heard him say to his father, "He's really strong, but isn't he kind of short for a superhero, Dad?"

Lily's POV

There were days that were filled with sunshine and rainbows, with flowers and birdsong, and puppies and kittens, everything that was happy and warm and nice and smelled heavenly. Then there were days that were nothing but rain and cold wind, and ragweed and the cry of a vulture that's spotted a fresh kill, and rabid mutts with mange and feral cats, spitting and hissing while their claws flew at your face. Long story short, there were days of bliss, and then there were days of poo, and this had been one holy hell pisser of a poo day, and the worst thing of all was that I had myself to blame for it.

Well, I wasn't completely to blame for everything that had happened. God knows my family had done their fair share, just like they always did, but I suppose, no, I _know_ that I was the one who pushed things over the line, but only because I got so damned tired of their questions and their accusations, and I'd found myself wishing that I'd pretended to be on death's doorstep with a highly contagious disease of one type or another, and that was only five minutes after I'd arrived.

It had become a Lewis family tradition throughout the years, to gather at my parents' house twice a month for a family dinner, and most times I managed to bite my tongue and keep my mouth shut when they started in on me for still being single, and for not giving my mom and dad any grandchildren, even though I was almost thirty years old, and yadda, yadda, yadda, but today had been different. Today marked the dinner when the main topic of conversation was my living arrangements, those which had me living next door to Tommy Conlon, who was a disgrace to the Marine Corps, at least he was as far as my dad and brothers were concerned.

I wasn't sold on the idea that my mom and my sisters, not to mention my brothers and sisters-in-law really and truly shared the same views, but they weren't about to stand up and voice an opinion that differed from that of my father. Major Lee J. Lewis was a proud Marine, now retired, after forty years in the USMC, and he was a force to be reckoned with, one whose voice swayed the vote and reigned supreme in his home…but I didn't live in his home any longer, and as such, I wasn't about to stand at attention and declare that Tommy Conlon had disgraced himself and his country, no matter how much he ranted and raved.

Needless to say, my insubordination didn't sit well with my father, or my brothers, and the resulting screaming match that took place had undoubtedly been heard for miles around, but I was proud of myself for standing my ground and refusing to budge an inch. I was glad that I'd stood up for myself and shown everyone that I was a grown woman who was perfectly capable of making my own decisions.

What I _wasn't_ proud of was the fact that I'd established my opinion by adding my own voice to the screaming, and I really, _really_ regretted calling my brother Josh an asshat, no matter how much he might have deserved it, and I really, _really_ wished that I hadn't told my brother Mike to go to hell, but what was done was done, and it was a safe bet that I wouldn't be welcome at the next family get-together.

Yep, I was having an ass-kicking, full o' poo day, and just when I thought things couldn't possibly get any worse, I realized that I'd locked my keys inside of my apartment, which meant that I couldn't get inside where all of the chocolate and whipped cream were waiting for me, and I started to contemplate the notion that I was being punished for my actions that afternoon, and that was the straw that broke the camel's back, right between his humps, and made me seriously consider giving in to the urge to indulge in a good, long, self-pitying cry…and then _he_ appeared.

I tried to think of something to say to him, something that wouldn't sound crazy or stupid, or weird or dorky, but I couldn't think of a single thing, no matter how hard I tried, not that I'd really expected to be able to. I ought to have felt at least a little comfortable around him, after all, we'd had a snack together, but that didn't stop my palms from sweating as he moved closer to me, and it certainly didn't stop my heart from beating faster and faster as he looked at me and raised one eyebrow in a questioning fashion that did funny things to the back of my knees, making them feel a little weak.

"Hi, Lily," he said, and even though it was silly, I couldn't help but feel pleased by the sound of my name spoken in his voice. "Is everything okay, do you need any help?"

Everything was not okay, and I definitely needed his help, but how could I explain to him what was happening without humiliating myself in the process? Maybe this was the second part of my punishment for behaving the way that I had at my parents' house. Perhaps it wasn't enough that I was being kept from the comfort of my home, maybe I had to be thoroughly humiliated as well.

"Hi, Tommy," I said, trying, really and truly trying, and failing miserably to keep the dreamy sound out of my voice. "It's not end of the world or anything, but I locked myself out of my apartment. I would jimmy the lock, if I knew how, but my lock picking skills are paltry, well, truly, they're nonexistent, and I would call a locksmith, if I could, but I left my cell phone inside as well, so….."

It dawned on me that I was rambling and I forced myself to stop. I could easily imagine that he'd already drawn the conclusion that I was a nut job, but did I really and truly want to attempt to explain myself to him? I knew that my reasons for doing things the way that I did would be confusing to him, to anyone whose brain functioned in a normal fashion, and I would like to keep those facts to myself for as long as possible, just in case there was a chance, no matter how tiny, that he might like me.

"Aren't those your keys right there?" he asked, pointing to the ring that was sticking out of my pants' pocket.

Well, dammit. There went my intention to hide my weirdness from him. "They're one set, but not the ones that have the key to my apartment on them. This ring has my car keys, and the key to my locker at work, but the key to my apartment and my mailbox are on another ring, and I left them inside."

Oh, God. It all sounded so normal when I explained the plan to myself, but saying the words out loud to him made me realize that it was absolutely nuts for me to do things the way that I did. Oh, well. I suppose that it was too much for me to hope for anyway, that he would like me, that he would want to get to know me better and eventually take me out on a date, wasn't it? A guy like him wanted a normal girlfriend, one who undoubtedly looked and acted perfect at all times and didn't suffer from cellulite on her tummy and thighs, not to mention her bulbous, oversized…..

"Okay," he said suddenly, in a soft voice that might have held a hint of humor. "You could ask the Super for help, couldn't you? I'm pretty sure that Mr. and Mrs. D'Angelo have a spare key to everyone's apartment, don't they?"

Well, here was another opportunity for me to fill him in on an oddity, but thankfully it wasn't one of mine, and it was one that was unlikely to be a bother to him anyway. "Yep, they have keys to every apartment, and I could ask them for help, if I knew that they would come to help me, but they won't. What they _will_ do is to send their son, Vinnie, to help me instead, and I'm really not in the mood to deal with him today."

His brow wrinkled and he frowned at me, and then did the thing with his eyebrow again, and again, like a goof, I couldn't help but feel weak in the knees. "He wouldn't _try_ anything, would he?" he asked quietly, and I allowed myself to indulge in the fantasy that he was asking because he was concerned about me, because he liked me, and wanted to date me…and then I took control of myself again and brought myself back to the here and now.

"Not really, he's pretty much harmless, he just has a tendency to be a tad bit overbearing, and when that doesn't work he begs, and then he cries. I don't want to sound mean or anything, but I'm really not up for that today."

He might have smiled, and then he nodded while his eyes traveled to my hair, and then, without saying a word, he plucked one of the bobby pins out of my hair and drew something metal out of his pocket and went to work, picking the lock of my apartment. I should have been outraged, I suppose, to see him immersed in a law-breaking activity, right there in front of me, but I couldn't help feel impressed, and grateful, as well.

It took him only a matter of moments to spring the lock and I was certain that I saw him smile when it finally gave way. It couldn't have been gas this time, and it was nice to see his lips curve that way, though it would have been even nicer if he'd been smiling at _me_, instead of at the door.

"There you go," he said, turning to me and offering me the last remnants of his smile, which made me feel all light and fluttery inside.

"Thanks, Tommy," I said, forcefully reminding myself that I had no right to hug him, even if part of my desire to do so was to offer him my thanks, and I certainly didn't have the right to kiss him on his cheek, so I couldn't do that, no matter how much I might have wanted to. "I don't know what I could do to pay you back….."

"I do," he interrupted, and offered me a full-fledged grin, not just the last bit of a half-smile, but everything that he had in the smile department, and I realized that what I'd thought was fluttering before had nothing on the real thing. "You could offer me some more brownies, if you have any left."

Damn. I _didn't_ have any left, but I'd baked this morning, which meant that I wasn't without backup. "I'm sorry, they're all gone, but I do have a snickerdoodle Bundt cake inside, if you'd like some of that instead."

He looked bewildered for a moment. "A snicker-what-something-cake?" he asked, shaking his head. "I don't know what that is."

"Have you ever had snickerdoodle cookies?"

"I can't say that I have," he said, still wearing a look of confusion. "Do they have Snickers in them?"

"No, you're thinking of Santa Surprises," I corrected him, though it was more than likely that he had no idea what those were either. "Do you like sugar cookies?"

"Yes."

"What about cinnamon?"

"Yes."

"Imagine the two tastes together, inside of a cake…how does that sound?"

The look of bewilderment left his face and he smiled at me all over again…and made me feel goofy all over again as well. "It sounds like a pretty good way for you to thank me," he said, waiting for me to enter, then following me inside. "Though hearing the words would work just fine, if you'd prefer to have some time to yourself."

It would have been unseemly and not neighborly at all to force him inside and tie him to a chair so that he'd never leave, not to mention that doing so would be more than a little criminal and crazy, so I forced myself to keep my hands off of him and focused on smiling at him instead.

"Don't be silly," I said, then winced, because the word _silly_ was one that never ought to be used to describe a man like Tommy Conlon. "My diary entries have been pretty dull for a long time now, but they won't be tonight, will they….?"

Damn and hell and piss...I really shouldn't have said that, should I?


	3. Chapter Three

Chapter Three

Lily's POV

My job at the library was usually pretty calm, tranquil, almost, but today had been a different matter, today had been the day for story hour with any and all of the kiddos in the area who either longed for a couple of chapters read aloud to them all on their own, or, more often than not, because their harried mother needed a break. Story time always drew a crowd, but today had been different, today it had been a madhouse, and everywhere I'd looked there had been a kid screaming their head off, with a runny nose that was dripping onto their clothes.

The worst thing of all was that the regular reader, a grandmotherly type named Rosemary, had been sick, and I'd been the lucky one who'd been nominated to fill in for her, and let me tell you, after only five minutes of taking her place I came to the conclusion that she deserved a sainthood once she'd passed on…or, we could just lock her up in the loony bin right now, because she was obviously a wacko, to have done this job as long as she had without demanding hazard pay.

Amazingly enough I survived the ordeal, and made it back to my apartment, thinking to myself, as I bypassed my mailbox for the stairs that led to the landing, and, a few steps after that, to my front door, that a long, luxurious soak in the tub would be just what I needed to set myself back to right. That would be the first order of business, followed by a little catnap, then a night of pigging out on the couch in front of a trio, at the very least, of sappily romantic movies. It was a perfect plan, there were no faults to be found in its makeup, and it would be great, it would be fun…God, had I always been so pathetic?

It was Friday night, the time when a single woman out to have been setting out on a date, or with a group of friends, in the hope that she might meet Mr. Right, and what was I doing instead? I was going to be pigging out on every bit of chocolate that I could get my hands on, right after I finished my Chinese takeout binge, that is, and then I would give myself over to the romantic lures of my dates for the evening, which would undoubtedly be Mr. Darcy, Colonel Brandon and Captain Wentworth, given that I'd been on a Jane Austen kick as of late.

I knew that I wasn't a girl anymore, I really wasn't even what would be considered a young woman anymore, but I wasn't a toothless old hag either, I was still in my childbearing years, so why was I so intent, and content, to act like there were no prospects to be found in my future? I'd always dreamed of being someone's wife, and the mother to several little someone's as well, so why wasn't I going out to find the one who'd be my husband and the father to my children?

The answer was obvious, humiliatingly so. I was waiting for my next-door neighbor to show that he had an interest in dating me. I wasn't so far-gone that I imagined myself walking down the aisle to marry Tommy Conlon, but I wouldn't have minded finding myself on his arm for a date or two, at the very least, and I certainly wouldn't have minded pressing my lips against his while his hands…..

"Well, well, well, this must be my lucky day," a voice purred beside my ear, bringing me out of my "Tommy and Lily Sitting In A Tree" themed reverie with a start…and a barely stifled groan of annoyance. "And it could be your lucky day as well, couldn't it, Lily?"

Ugh…I was familiar with Vinnie's notion of what a lucky day for a woman entailed, and that always included a night on the town with him. Granted, I wasn't attached at the moment, and I hadn't had an honest to goodness date in a long time, but I wasn't so desperate that I was going to put Vinnie D'Angelo in a position where he felt like he had half a chance to end the night with a handful of my boobs while he stuffed his tongue down my throat.

"I don't think that 'lucky' would be the word that I'd use to describe my day, Vinnie," I said, moving toward my front door, only to be stopped by him stepping in front of me, blocking my path. "And the remedy for the thoroughly crappy day that I've endured is inside my apartment, if you'd do me the favor of moving out of my way….."

He didn't move out of my way, not that I'd expected him to. He chose instead to block me further, to the point that I would be forced to place my hands on him, to shove him aside, or to brush my body against him so that I could put myself between him and the door, and neither one of those options was appealing to me, though kneeing him in the balls sounded better and better with every moment that passed by.

"Listen, Vinnie, I understand that you like to think of this day as a 'lucky' one for yourself, but that won't be the case if you don't move out of my way, alright? I know that I normally go back and forth with you, and that I tend to be a lot more patient and understanding than I am right now most of the time, but the truth of the matter is that I'm just not in the mood for this right now, okay?"

He backed away from me, until his butt knocked against my door, his face crumbling as the tears that were inevitable whenever he was around, sprang forth in his eyes. "You hate me, don't you?" he asked, in a voice that was whiny, and higher in tone than the way that he normally spoke. "You and every other woman on the face of the Earth, except for Momma, of course, but I can't date my Momma, can I?"

Several responses came to mind, most of which would have been hilarious, I would imagine, but none of which would have gone over very well with Vinnie at that moment. "I don't hate you, Vinnie," I said exasperatedly. "I just wish that you would take a hint every now and then, so that we could spare ourselves this embarrassment every couple of weeks."

He sniffled, and rubbed the back of his hand across his cheeks. "All I wanted was a nice dinner and a show, is that asking for too much, Lily?"

I had to give him points for being vigilant in his pursuit, or, that is, I might have, if he hadn't been so damned irritating. "I'm sorry Vinnie, but I already have plans for tonight."

The lie rolled off my tongue very easily, _too_ easily, and his eyes narrowed as he looked at me, then pushed himself off of the door and moved toward me. "Is that right?" he asked, sniffling a couple of times before he ran his fingertips beneath his nose and wiped away some of the snot that was trying to run out of his nostrils. "Who's the lucky guy, if you don't mind me asking?"

I imagined the trio that was waiting for me, all of them tall, dark and handsome, one who was filled with pride, another with a sense of melancholy, and the third who oozed with enigmatic sensuality. I could have said that there were three men who'd commandeered me for the evening, but that would have probably sounded kind of slutty. I would have to choose one of them, it wouldn't be that hard to pick one out of the three of them, but in the end I chose instead to throw all of my common sense to the wind instead.

"My neighbor," I said, gesturing over my shoulder at Tommy's front door, praying that he wouldn't overhear my lie, though, if he _was_ watching and listening, he'd already seen and heard one hell of a show.

Vinnie shrugged his shoulders and tossed his head around, both of which were sure signs that I'd wounded his masculine pride. "So, these plans that you have with him, they're _date_ kind of plans, huh?"

"Yes, of course," I said, feeling an overwhelming sensation take hold of me, one that said that I was making a big mistake and digging myself in deeper and deeper with this lie that I'd told.

"You're really and truly dating this Conlon guy, huh?"

There was something in his tone that set me on edge, and when I spoke again it was through teeth that were clenched just a little. "Yes, I am," I said, praying that a punishing bolt of lightning wouldn't streak down out of the sky and fry me to a crisp.

"Don't you know what he's done?" he asked, moving away from my door altogether, holding out his hand, like he meant to touch me. "Don't you know that he disgraced himself, Lily? I bet your family wouldn't be too happy if they knew that you were….."

"He is _not_ a disgrace," I said, angrily slapping his hand away, before he could make the mistake of touching me. "And it really doesn't matter what anyone else thinks about our relationship, because I am the one who makes the decisions about my life, and I like Tommy, I like him _a lot_ and that's what matters to me….."

My voice trailed away when I noticed that Vinnie was staring at a spot over my shoulder, with a look on his face like someone who's been caught in the act of doing something that they oughtn't to have done. For one foolish moment I told myself that he wasn't looking at Tommy Conlon. I told myself that there were plenty of other people that it could have been, but, unfortunately, I knew better than that.

"Well, Conlon, you're a lucky man, to have snagged a girl like Lily," Vinnie said, confirming my worst fears. "I hope that you realize that, otherwise you don't deserve her."

I didn't hear him say a word aloud, and I couldn't see his face, because I refused to turn around and look at him, but he must have made some sort of gesture that placated Vinnie, because he finally consented to leave me in peace, which was funny in a way that wasn't funny at all, given that he'd just unleashed a humiliating volley of chaos into my life.

I watched him leave from the corner of my eye, but other than that I didn't move, I barely dared to breathe, all that I could do was stare at my front door, again, from the corner of my eye, while I tried, in vain, to formulate a plan for dashing inside my apartment as quickly as possible, all while keeping myself turned away from him, so that I wouldn't have to look at him, so that I could simply make my way inside and die of shame in peace and quiet.

See, this was what happened when you depended on your imagination for your love life. This is what you got when you spent your Friday nights indulging in gluttony and a self-service ménage à trois with men who were a figment of someone else's imagination…wait a minute, there were three of them and one of me, so that wasn't a ménage à trois, was it?

I couldn't help but wonder what it was called when there were three men being intimate with one woman? Oh, that's right, it was an orgy…and that definitely made me a slut, except for the fact that I wasn't really having actual sex with any of them, not to mention the three of them, so that meant that I wasn't really a slut, was I….?

Oh, God, my mind was drifting again. I was too busy focusing on my sad excuse for a sex life, when what I ought to have been doing was making my escape. I hadn't heard his door open, so I knew that he was still standing behind me, undoubtedly staring at me, and pondering the fact that I was a delusional weirdo, one that he would never allow in his apartment again…at least that's what I thought, until I heard him speak.

"What do you say to dinner _and_ a movie?" he asked softly, and in my shock I completely forgot about my humiliation and whirled around to look at him. He was almost smiling at me, one corner of his mouth was lifted, and he didn't look outraged or scared or disgusted, and that made me happy, that made me _very_ happy, but thankfully I didn't launch myself into my happy dance, I had enough of my senses not to do that out in the open, where he could see me.

"That sounds fine to me," I said, which wasn't exactly true, because it sounded a lot more than just _fine_. "Just let me know the day and time and I'll be ready."

He assured me that he would, and made his way to his door, and I made my way to mine, and had just barely made it inside when the dance took hold of me and I moved throughout the room, shimmying and shaking and laughing like a loon…until I noticed that my curtains were open, and, oh, help, _he_ was looking in at me, with what could only be called an honest to goodness smile curving his lips.

Tommy's POV

I tried to remember the last time that I'd found myself getting ready for a date on Saturday night, but for the life of me, I just couldn't remember, and I knew that it wasn't because I was developing memory loss, but because it had been so long since I'd actually had a date, on any night, and I hoped that I wouldn't do or say anything that would give me away when I knocked on Lily's front door.

I'd wrestled with what I ought to wear, whether I ought to wear cologne or not, and whether I ought to buy her a little gift, and in the end I decided on my best pair of jeans and a button-down shirt, and I sprayed myself with cologne, because I figured that it was best to ensure that I smelled good, and I bought her a bouquet of flowers, an assortment of lilies for a Lily, and hoped that I wasn't in danger of making an ass of myself.

It was kind of funny, I guess, because she really wasn't the type that I would have gone for in the past, aside from the fact that she had dark hair and eyes. I was quiet, so I usually went for women who were more subdued, at least, I _had_, but Lily was about as far from being subdued as a person could get. She was always talking, mostly to herself, always moving, which included some crazy dance that I'd seen her doing in her apartment, in short, she was bubbly and open and shared all of herself, and being around her was like being in a whirlwind, and, crazily enough, it was a vortex that I really enjoyed.

I was supposed to pick her up at six o'clock, so it took me by surprise when I heard the doorbell at five-thirty. She was an impulsive woman, I knew that already, but I wouldn't have thought that she would be the type to jump the gun on our date by thirty minutes and come knocking on my door. I took one last look in the mirror and crossed the floor and opened the door…and found my father waiting for me on the other side.

"Hey, Tommy," he said, smiling widely at me, a grin that faltered, then died a little when I didn't return it to him. "You're looking good son, all dressed up for a night out on the town, huh? I guess this isn't the best time, is it?"

I couldn't think of a time with him that would have been good. Granted, I wasn't as furious with him as I had been, but I still wasn't in the mood to sit back and shoot the breeze with him either. I figured that it was best, for both of us, that he stay on his side of the city and I stay on mine. I might have known that he would have a differing opinion on that, after all, why should he do things the easy, painless way, when he could draw blood instead?

"How the hell did you find me?" I asked, moving out of my apartment, to stand in front of the door, because I wasn't about to invite him inside, not now, not tonight. "Have you been following me?"

I saw him struggling to swallow while his smile died altogether, and I recognized the sign as one that he needed a drink in the worst way possible. I'd seen his throat like that plenty of times throughout my life, when he was arguing with Mom, or hollering at me or Brendan, and in the past I would have been scared that he was going to follow it up with the back of his hand, or, as I got older, with his fist, and I couldn't help but hope that he would do that now, so that I could finally give him exactly what he'd been asking for all those years ago.

"Well, Tommy, I haven't been following you, not exactly, I just needed to ask you a question, that's all. You see, there's a magazine that wants to do an article on you and Brendan, and Brendan wants to do it, but he can't, not unless you agree to do it with him….."

I might have known that the old man wouldn't seek me out solely from the goodness of his heart, so that we could reconnect and bond with one another and all of that wishy-washy, psychobabble bullshit. He was undoubtedly working an angle with Brendan, to get himself welcomed back into the fold, and this was his way of greasing the wheel and getting his ulterior motives working smoothly.

"Why can't he do it without me?" I asked, trying to sound like I was bored, and doing a pretty good job of it too, if I did say so myself. "He seemed to be able to talk just fine on his own last time I saw him, so why does he need me now?"

The truth of the matter, the deep-down, well-hidden, honest to God truth was that I wanted to see my big brother again, I wanted us to move forward together, I wanted a relationship, not only with him, but with his family as well, but I just couldn't open myself up to the possibility of being hurt again. The same could be said of what I wanted from Pop, but how in hell did I broach that subject without exposing myself to the possibility of being emotionally defeated all over again?

"They want both of you, Tommy, not just Brendan by himself. He would have asked you himself, but he said that there hasn't been much communication between the two of you. That makes me kind of sad, you know? I really had hope that Sparta would bring you boys back together, not tear you further apart….."

It _had_ brought us back together somewhat, but the space between us hadn't been a two-lane road, it had been the Grand Canyon, and that was a fracture that took a long time to cross. I'm sure that Pop knew that Brendan gave me a big chunk of the money that he'd made, and maybe he thought that I ought to feel obligated for the rest of my life to do each and every single thing that my brother wanted, and maybe I ought to, to a point, but that didn't include me sitting under a ring of lights and being poked and prodded and questioned by some asshole with a microphone and no ability whatsoever to feel care and compassion for their fellow human being.

"I don't do interviews; I don't have anything to say to anyone about what has happened to me in my life. All they want to do is ask me about the 'events' in my life that led me to the decisions that I made, and it's none of their damned business why I did what I did. I don't have to explain myself to anyone, and that includes you, Pop, and Brendan as well, so you tell him that I wouldn't mind meeting him, and hanging out, but I'm not going to sit down for an interview with anyone, so he can take that idea and shove it straight up his….!"

"I hate to interrupt, and I want to tell you that I wasn't eavesdropping at all, before you assume that I was, but it's six o'clock, and I thought that maybe you'd forgotten about our date. Of course, I understand if you don't feel like going, or if you'd rather that I left you alone, I'd just like to know, one way or the other….."

I turned to find her watching us, her door opened just enough to allow her ringside seats to the latest battle between me and my old man, and bit back my words, forcing them down, which hurt just a little, because they'd been formed in anger, the sort that called for me to shout them, instead of speaking them. I could see enough of her to know that she'd dolled up for our date, nothing fancy, but nice, and pretty, and I cursed beneath my breath, because the impression that I'd just made on her _hadn't_ been the one that I was hoping for.

"Give me a minute," I said, pausing just long enough to shoot a glare at my father before I turned to my door and made a beeline back inside, to get the bouquet that I'd bought for her, dumping the flowers into a vase that I'd picked up for her as quickly, and nicely, as I could, then I rushed back outside…to find her laughing and talking with Pop like she'd known him her whole life.

"Oh, Tommy, how did you know that lilies are my favorites?" she asked softly, her face still alight with a smile from something my father had said, though it pleased me to see that it was a smile that grew because of me and my gift. "They're beautiful, thank you."

I had a feeling that she wanted to hug me, and that would have been okay with me, but in the end she didn't. She returned to her apartment instead, to set the vase somewhere inside, leaving me just a moment to faceoff with Pop, and let him know how things were between us, and how they were bound to stay that way for some time, but he disarmed me by smiling at me in a way that said that he was proud of me about something.

"That's a fine lady that you've found for yourself, Tommy," he said, nodding his approval, which I neither needed nor wanted. "Be sure that you keep a tight hold on her, because women like that don't come along every day, you know."

I laughed mockingly and rolled my eyes at him as Lily came out to join us on the landing. "What the hell would you know about it anyway, Pop?" I whispered beneath my breath, forcing as much of a smile as I could manage when she turned around to look at me. "The only thing you know about how to treat a lady is where to hit where the bruises won't show."


	4. Chapter Four

Chapter Four

Tommy's POV

The theater was packed full of people, and when I say packed full, I mean the "every seat filled, standing room only, my claustrophobic tendencies were going full-blown apeshit" type of packed full. I knew that _The Avengers_ was one of those movies that people had been looking forward to, and I knew that I'd been lucky to find a seat for each of us, and I shouldn't be bitching about things that were beyond my control, but I was going to gripe anyway, even if I only did so to myself.

Seated in front of us were a group of guys who'd obviously pounded back one too many before they came to the theater, and they were starting to act like obnoxious assholes, to my right I had an entire row of ankle biters who were throwing popcorn, after they'd stuck it up their nose, and one of the pieces hit me and stuck to my cheek. The people behind us weren't so bad, that is, they weren't until they started making out, and with that came hard breathing and moaning and groaning, and I had a bad feeling that they might be in the mood to treat us all to a little T & A before all was said and done.

As if all of that wasn't bad enough, there were two guys who'd taken the empty seats beside Lily and were doing everything in their power to capture her attention, but all they'd succeeded in so far was pissing me off. I kept telling myself that I couldn't get into any fights, I kept reminding myself that she was my date, and not my girlfriend, and it was good advice, I was willing to admit that, but it didn't make one bit of difference to me, because they were practically begging for a beating, and I was going to be the one to give it to them.

"Are you okay?" Lily asked suddenly, leaning close so that she could whisper in my ear. "You have a funny look on your face, the sort that says that you're about to come unhinged, if I had to guess, and if that's the case then we probably better get out of here before you do, because I've made it this far without having any major problems with the police and I'd kind of like to keep it that way."

Her words made me smile to myself, but it was the feel of her lips tickling my ear that really brought it to life, so much so that I almost laughed, but I caught it just in time. I'd started to get over the idea of hiding all of my reactions from her, but I knew that the two douchebags who were sitting beside her were watching us, and how in the hell was I supposed to convince them that I was a deadly adversary if I was laughing?

I leaned toward her and placed my hand on the side of her face and my lips next to her ear. "Why would the police bother you if I was the one who became 'unhinged'?" I whispered, taking a deep breath and savoring her perfume. "Or are you saying that my bad conduct might wear off on you and make you behave in a way that would make it necessary for them to arrest you too?"

I felt her shiver a little, which was strange, because it wasn't really all that cold in the theater. "Who's saying that they would arrest you at all?" she whispered, raising her hand to mine, which was still cupping her cheek. "Maybe I would sacrifice myself instead. I know that it's hard for you to imagine, but there are those who think that I'm a little crazy, a little wackadoo, if you know what I mean, and it's always the unstable ones that get taken away, not the ones whose brains function the way they're supposed to."

I wondered how many people had told her that she was crazy throughout her life, and if I had to guess, I'd say that it bothered her a lot more than she let on, and that made perfect sense to me, because I did the same thing myself. It was a survival mechanism, it was one of those things that you did to feel safe, by saying something that could be hurtful first, before anyone else had a chance to use it against you. It didn't really keep you from hurting, but at least you didn't give them the satisfaction of ripping you apart…at least, that's what you told yourself, even though yourself knew that it was bullshit.

"I won't lie and say that you march to the same drumbeat that most people do, but that isn't really a bad thing, you know?" I said, feeling the strangest sensation taking hold of me from the feel of her hand slowly stroking mine. "That just means that you're not as boring as most people are, and I may be mistaken, but I don't think that they arrest people just for being interesting, so you ought to be just fine, even if the cops show up to take _me_ away."

She moved back away from me, enough so that she could look at me, and I found myself wondering what she might have been thinking that would have her eyes looking the way that they did, and I couldn't help but notice that she was blushing, and that she was breathing a lot faster than what was normal. I had an idea that she liked me, she didn't bother at all to keep that a secret, but I didn't realize that her feelings might have been a little more intense than simply _liking_ me, not that I thought that she had any serious intentions in mind, hell, I might have been imagining everything anyway…..

"Would you like a little nibble of this?" she whispered suddenly, out of the blue, and for one second my mind went to something that was way out of line, until she rattled her bag of popcorn at me, bringing me back to the here and now reality where she wasn't coming on to me in a way that sent a shock of awareness running throughout my body.

"I noticed that you didn't get any popcorn for yourself, so maybe you didn't want any, or maybe you wanted to share with me, and if that is the case, then you ought to get as much of it as you can before I eat it all myself."

She rattled the bag again, and in the dim light of the theater I could see the popcorn that was glistening with that fake butter that probably had a hundred calories per drop, and saw that there was something else in there as well, and it dawned on me that she'd dumped the Milk Duds that I'd bought for her in with the popcorn, which seemed very strange to me, but what did I know?

"I know that you like chocolate, and I know that you like caramel, and I'm going to guess that you think popcorn is pretty good as well, so just imagine the three of them together in one bite, a little bit of sweet and salty and buttery all mixed together…doesn't that sound good?"

That voice that she was using could probably make damn near anything sound spectacular, which was why I pretended to hesitate, in the hope that she would continue to use it. "You already know that you're right about the chocolate and the caramel, but I'm really not all that crazy about caramel popcorn….."

"Me neither," she interrupted, digging into the bag to snag a few kernels of the popcorn and one of the Milk Duds. "The truth is that I can't stand the stuff, but you're forgetting the chocolate, because this isn't just plain old gross caramel popcorn, this is choco-mel-pop instead, which is completely different, and absolutely delicious."

I started to tell her that I would try it, but before I could say a word she put each piece of popcorn into my mouth, along with the Milk Dud, which had started to melt, which must have been the reason that she decided to stick the tip of her thumb in my mouth as well, and I couldn't say for certain why in hell I decided to lick the chocolate off of her thumb, but I did, and there was no doubt in my mind why she shivered afterward, just like there was no denying that she liked me, a lot, and that she made me feel a whole gamut of emotions each and every time that she did something like that.

I don't think that it dawned on her what she'd done until she felt the suction of my mouth on the tip of her thumb, or maybe it was the feel of my tongue, licking away the sticky combination of chocolate and butter that caught her attention. Her eyes widened, and she took a deep breath, and there was a moment of shocked silence as I moved my mouth away from her, and I started to worry that maybe I'd just stepped over the line and done something that I really ought not to have done, at least, I did, until she started smiling.

"Oh, wow," she said softly, staring down at her thumb, then up, meeting my eyes while her smile grew brighter and bigger. "I'm never going to wash this thumb again….."

Her voice trailed away as I smiled, and a look came over her face, one that said that she had revealed more than she meant to, and was now regretting it. I started to assure her that everything was fine, and that there was no reason for her to feel self-conscious, but the lights started to dim, and I knew that the time for talking had passed us by. I sat back in my seat, and she did the same in hers, and I tried to concentrate my attention on the previews, but my eyes kept straying to her, and I missed most of the coming attractions.

I thought that I was being smooth and secretive with the way that I was watching her, but then I saw that she was getting a little restless, and smiling in a way that said that she was pleased, but also a little uncomfortable, so I made myself watch the movie instead of her, and it wasn't long before I was caught up in the action onscreen, my eyes and ears concentrated on the sights and sounds while I lazily dipped my hand into the bag of choco-mel-pop, only to freeze in place when I felt the brush of her fingers against mine.

It was one of those cliché moments, but I didn't really care. I ignored the fact that our fingers were both slick and sticky and slowly twined mine with hers. It wasn't holding hands, not in the strictest sense, but it felt good, especially when she ran her thumb in a circle around mine, and I was quick to return the caress, and I smiled when I heard her take a deep breath and hold it for a moment or two before she slowly released it and tightened her hold on me.

Who would have thought that something so simple could make my night complete?

Lily's POV

I was pretty sure that I wouldn't be getting any sleep at all tonight. I had a good idea that I was going to be doing my best to recreate that scene from _My Fair Lady_, the one where the housekeeper and the maids are doing their best to get Eliza, who's suddenly head-over-heels for Henry Higgins, ready for bed, while she insists on launching into song and making a general nuisance of herself.

Yep, that was going to be me tonight…without the housekeeper and maids, of course, and my song wouldn't be about my ability to dance all night, but would instead revolve around watching movies and eating choco-mel-pop, and having my thumb licked, and holding fingers, and eating hamburgers and fries, and having my thumb licked, and walking slowly to the landing, where he hugged me tight and having my thumb licked…..

Maybe I was a little _too_ hung-up on that whole thumb licking thing, don't you think?

Tonight's date had been the first one that I'd gone on in a long time, and it was absolute perfection, from start to finish. I had started the night thinking that he liked me, at least a little bit, the tiniest bit of like that a man was capable of, and I'd kept that idea right up to the point where he licked the chocolate off of my thumb, and then I'd allowed myself to consider that maybe, just maybe, he liked me more than just a little bit. Maybe he thought that I was kind of pretty, he might have even been willing to overlook the fact that I was a little bit of a crazy person. I'd been hesitant to think too much of it, even when he'd put his hand into the bag that held the popcorn and Milk Dud mixture and twined his fingers with mine, but all of my doubts had went the way of the Dodo when we shared a booth at JB's Burger Barn, where he sat close beside me, not across from me, and spent a good amount of the time staring at me, as opposed to looking around at everyone else, and that had to have been a good sign…didn't it?

I was very self-conscious about eating in front of him, which was goofy, when you took into account the fact that I'd already done so, more than once, as a matter of fact. I guess that it was different this time, because the burger that I'd ordered, the one that the menu promised held lots of mushrooms, white cheddar cheese and mustard aioli, had the potential to cause a lot of splatter problems where my clothing was concerned, and if that didn't get me then the fries drowned in ketchup certainly would, but in the end I'd been just fine…though he hadn't fared so well with his double meat, double cheese, extra bacon burger.

We'd left the place stuffed to the gills, with my clothes nice and clean, and his sporting a variety of splatters, and had driven back to the place that we both called home with the windows down, chattering away about this and that…okay, okay…with _me_ chattering away about this and that while he listened and smiled occasionally, and every now and then offered an opinion of his own. The time had gone by way too fast, and it was all about to come to an end, but at least we'd still had the walk up to the landing, and the moment outside our respective front doors, the one instant that I'd spent a good deal of the night thinking, and worrying, about.

I suppose that it was understandable, to think about a potential first kiss, but the problem that existed for me was what I might do if he was to put those beautiful lips of his against mine. I suppose that I shouldn't have been so worried after what had happened in the theater, after all, those lips had been wrapped around my thumb, while his _tongue_ licked away the chocolate that had melted there, which, let me tell you, had made _me_ melt in ways that were all kinds of sinful in nature, but even that wasn't enough to chase away the idea that I might make a fool of myself if he was to kiss me by throwing all caution and common sense to the wind and climbing him like he was a tree.

There was a part of me that had believed that I would be disappointed if he didn't kiss me, because wouldn't that mean that he really didn't like me after all, but in the end it had been nice, well, to be perfectly honest, it had been downright sublime just to be held in his arms, because that in itself had been one of the most romantic moments that I'd ever experienced in my life.

I'm sure that there are some people who would roll their eyes at me, they might even make a sound that was filled partly with sarcasm and partly with pity while they did so, because they would be thinking to themselves that there was nothing at all that was romantic about a hug. They would think that ending a date that way meant that there wasn't enough attraction to take things to the kissing level, much less the sex level, and at some point earlier in the evening I might have agreed, though I was fairly certain, no, I knew for a fact that there wouldn't have been sex, not at all, but I might have been disappointed…yeah, you're right…I would have definitely have been disappointed that there wasn't a kiss, but that was because I didn't know how dreamy a hug could be, and that was because I'd never been hugged by Tommy Conlon before that moment.

I'd come from a family that wasn't very affectionate, and I was pretty sure that he had as well, given the little bit that I knew about his past, so I suppose that we both should have been less inclined toward that sort of thing, and I'd always assumed that I was, but I'd forgotten all about that when I'd felt his arms wrapped around me, holding me tight.

Most of the time people held each other for a second or two, long enough for a couple of pats to the back and a squeeze, but Tommy didn't take that approach. He'd moved into the hug slowly, pressing himself against me inch by inch, until we were touching from our chests down to our legs, and then he'd wrapped his arms around me, holding me tightly in place, while his hands moved, very slowly, from my waist, up my back, to squeeze my neck, then down again, to rest on my waist, before venturing just a tiny bit lower, not quite on my bottom, but not exactly on my waist either, and then back up, to a more respectable spot…not that I would have minded all that much if he'd tried to cop a feel. Truth be told, I wouldn't have minded at all, though that might have been all that it would have taken to have me scaling him like he was a strong and sturdy oak, and that probably wouldn't have been a good idea…at least, that's what I tried to tell myself.

It was no secret that he was strong, but I never could have imagined how solid and powerful he would feel, holding me tightly in a Tommy cocoon of warm blissfulness. I'd known that he smelled good already, I'd enjoyed his smell plenty of times since we'd first met, but I'd had idea at all just how yummy he would smell, wrapped all around me.

There was his cologne, which was the obvious scent, the most prominent one, but there was something else that I couldn't identify, beyond the fact that it was masculine in nature, and comforting, while at the same time arousing, though that could have just been my normal reaction to him, and underneath it all was the burger that he'd eaten, which had decorated his clothes, and it might sound crazy, which makes perfect sense, since we're talking about me, but that was a smell that made me kind of hot as well.

I would have been happy to have stood there like that for hours, maybe even all night, but the hour was growing late, and I finally consented to turn loose of him, and we both relaxed our hold on one another at the same moment, and he waited by my front door while I unlocked it, then insisted on accompanying me inside, to make sure that everything was safe, and then only after he was assured that it was, did he go home, leaving me alone, to try my best to wipe the goofy smile off of my face, but it was stubborn and kept coming back, no matter how hard I tried to make it go away, and finally I decided to let it stay right where it was.

That had been three hours ago, and I was still wide-awake, and I was still smiling, though not a constant grin, because my cheeks were kind of sore, and I still wasn't the least bit tired, so I finally gave up on the notion of even trying to sleep and indulged in a little dance around the living room…only after I was sure that the curtains were closed, of course.


	5. Chapter Five

Chapter Five

Lily's POV

I hated cleaning my house, and when I say that I hated it, I don't mean that it was kind of a drag, I mean that it was an act that encouraged me to throw myself onto the floor and pound my fists and feet against it, but it was an urge that I resisted. First of all, the rug was dirty, and pounding it would have sent clouds of dust into the air to choke me. Also, I was much too old, and mature, for that sort of behavior, though I had to admit that the idea was very tempting to me none the less.

I wasn't a neat person by nature, for the most part I was happily messy, but I also wasn't a nasty creature, hence the need that I felt to clean things from time to time and today was that time. It took a lot of cheerleading on my part, but I finally managed to talk myself into it, and once I got started I moved like a whirlwind through my apartment, sending dirt flying every which way, while I dusted and scrubbed and vacuumed and mopped, and in the end it was all worth it, to be able to flop down on the couch and find myself surrounded by cleanliness and the scents of Pledge, Pine Sol and Clorox bleach.

My eyelids had started to get heavy a couple of minutes after I'd sat down, and I was almost asleep when a knock on the door brought me out of my stupor. I felt like a drunk while I made my way to the door, staggering back and forth, and hoped that the person waiting for me on the other side wouldn't be Tommy, not because I didn't want to see him, but because I was afraid that my lethargic mind wouldn't have the ability that it normally did to keep all of my improper thoughts inside, where they belonged…not that I was really all that good at employing my inner censor in the best of times…..

I stopped on my side of the door and conducted a preliminary check to ensure that I was fit to be seen, thankful that I wasn't too groggy to remember the basics, like the state of my breath and whether or not my deodorant was holding up to the sweat that had poured forth out of me while I was cleaning. I found both of these areas to be satisfactory in nature, and decided to open the door, even though the state of my clothes left a lot to be desired. I figured that I could hold Tommy at bay with the promise of admitting him in ten minutes or so, after I'd had time to make myself more presentable…that is, if it _was_ Tommy who'd come knocking and not an axe wielding lunatic, or, even worse, Vinnie D' Angelo, with the intent to seduce me making him more tenacious than usual.

I suppose that it would have been wise for me to peep through the security hole that was so thoughtfully provided for me in the door that held the outside world at bay, but unfortunately I was a little too busy taking notice of the way that my breasts jiggled under the plain white t-shirt that I was wearing to take the time to put my brain and whatever common sense that I might have possessed to good use. In the end I simply pulled open the door, fully expecting to see Tommy Conlon waiting for me on the other side, which was why I was grinning like a goofball…only to find my mother staring back at me, with one eyebrow raised, and a look on her face that said that she was on the verge of laughing at me.

"You were expecting someone else, weren't you?" she asked quietly, looking toward Tommy's door, then back at me. "I hope that the sight of your mother is not too much of a disappointment for you."

The sight of her brought back the last dinner that I'd shared with my family, and the shouting match that had taken place between me and my father and brothers. The sight of her reminded me that I had behaved very badly, that I'd made an out-and-out jackass of myself, and then I remembered that I hadn't told her that I loved her before I left the house that she shared with my father, that I hadn't hugged her or kissed her on the cheek, and I figured that there was no time like the present to rectify that situation, I could do that much, at the very least, couldn't I?

"I wasn't really _expecting_ anyone," I said, moving forward to hug her close and kiss her cheek, all while doing my best not to knock the paper bags that she was carrying onto the ground. "And I should think by now that you would know that I love seeing you whenever I can, so why would I be disappointed?"

The truth was that I always expected to see Tommy, that is, that I was always on the lookout for him, because there couldn't be a time in existence that would have been a bad time to see and be seen where he was concerned…unless it was when I first woke up in the morning, with my hair standing on end and dried-up trails of spit leading from the corner of my mouth down to my chin…that would probably be pretty ugly, but I think that I could safely say that everything else would be okay…..

"…..me stand out here all day, or are you going to invite me inside?"

Her voice had a lot of humor in it, but there were traces of irritation and exasperation to be heard as well, and I wondered how long she'd been speaking to me before I'd finally heard her.

"Sorry, Mom," I said, reaching down to take her bags for her. "Geez, Louise, what are you toting around in here? You didn't kill and dismember Dad, did you?"

I'd only said what I had to be funny, but I might have known that she would fail to see the humor in my words. "Now, why on earth would I have brought him here if I had done that, Lily?" she asked, moving past me, and into my apartment, with one final look at Tommy's front door. "After all, I would need someone who wouldn't breathe a word of my actions to anyone in a position of authority, and I think that we both know that you couldn't keep a secret if your life depended on it, don't we?"

Hmm…maybe I'd underestimated her sense of humor, wouldn't you agree?

Tommy's POV

Brendan wasn't having any trouble at all adjusting to the new status of his life, as a matter of fact, if I had to bet, I was willing to say that he may as well never even have been that guy that I faced at Sparta. There weren't any worries to be found in his eyes, and he smiled easily, and often, so much so that it put my teeth on edge…not that they hadn't been there already.

I don't know why I had agreed to this meeting, maybe it was temporary insanity, or maybe, deep down, somewhere that was out of sight and out of mind for the most part, I wanted to see my brother again, I might have even wanted to test the waters with him, to see if there really and truly was any chance that we could be close to one another, but I was still too angry to allow those feelings to float to the top. I was sick and damned tired of being used, and I knew that Brendan had asked to meet me because there was something in it for him, and I suppose that was a big motivator for me making an appearance, so that I could tell him to piss off to his face, as opposed to doing so over the phone.

"You're looking good, Tommy," he began, after a couple of minutes had passed by without me saying a word, and he grew uncomfortable with watching me doctor my coffee with a sinful amount of sugar and cream. "You look…healthy, you know what I mean?"

I was never one who felt completely comfortable holding up my end of a conversation, but it was especially hard to do so when things took that inevitable step into awkwardness. Brendan and I had known one another for most of our lives, but to hear our conversations with one another you'd think that we were complete strangers, but, then, I guess we were, in all of the ways that counted, at least.

"I look _healthy_, huh?" I said, taking my time to stir my coffee, like I didn't have a care in the world, which I hoped covered up the fact that I was completely at a loss for what I ought to say or do next. "Do you mean overall, or were you saying that I looked pretty good for a guy with a bum shoulder?"

I guess that was kind of a cheap shot on my part, one of those "below the belt, straight for the nuts" kind of hits, and judging by the look that had come over my big brother's face, I was willing to bet that the blow had caught him right where it would hurt the most, but his eyes told me that I'd struck him in a place where the pain would linger a hell of a lot longer as well, and it was that knowledge that faded my feeling of triumph somewhat, not completely, but enough that I felt like an ass.

"I guess that I deserved that, didn't I?" he said softly, busying himself with his own cup of coffee, but that didn't offer much of a cover for him, because he didn't use much cream or sugar. "After all, I'm the one who gave you that bum shoulder, so why shouldn't I have to acknowledge it, right?"

Aw, hell…normal, everyday conversation was a chore for me. I sure as _hell_ wasn't in the mood for any of the guilt trip bullshit that he might have had in mind. I expected that sort of thing from Pop, because drunks tended to feel sorry for themselves, especially if they were whiny sons of bitches to begin with, but I would have thought that Brendan would steer clear of that sort of behavior…maybe the apple hadn't fallen as far from the tree as he liked to believe.

"What do you want from me, Brendan?" I asked quietly, even though there was a part of me, a big damned part of me that wanted to scream at him. "You messed up my shoulder, you helped me out after everything went to hell, and we both went on with our lives. That sums things up pretty well, doesn't it, so why do you want to rehash things now? Has your life gotten so boring that you don't have anything better to do than to call me up to shoot the breeze and remember the glory days with you?"

"Look, Tommy, I don't want to fight with you….."

"Yeah, well, that's swell, 'cause I don't want to fight with you either. I want you to leave me alone, I want Pop to leave me alone, I want the whole damned world to leave me alone, for the most part, and what Pop doesn't seem to understand, and what you can't wrap your head around, and the population of the world that insists on sticking their noses into my business can't see is that I want some peace, and I want some quiet, and I don't want to explain myself all of the time, I don't want people asking me stupid questions all of the time…I just want to be left alone. Is that too much to ask for, Brendan?"

He didn't have much to say for a moment or two, and he wasn't the only one, because a lot of the other diners had gotten very quiet as well…I guess I wasn't as good at keeping my voice down as I'd first believed I was. He stared at the table instead of talking, shredding the napkin that rested beneath his spoon to bits before he looked at me again, concentrating all of the hurt in those baby blues in my direction, as if he could sway me in that way…and damned if it didn't work, at least, it did a little, enough to make me, once more, feel like an ass.

"I just want another chance, Tommy," he whispered, and tested a small smile on me, one that he quickly withdrew, once he saw that I had no intention of returning it to him. "I can't say anything for Pop, or for anyone else in this world, but as for me, I just want a chance to be a part of your life. I know that there is someone that you talk to, that you share your life with. Pop met her the other night and he told me all about her….."

"Oh, Pop told you all about _her_, did he?" I asked, downing my coffee in a gulp so that I could slam the cup down, as gently as possible, on the tabletop. "Is that supposed to be the topic that opens the floodgates of conversation with us, Brendan? Am I supposed to see that you know all about _her_, that we share something with one another, which means that we can share everything else? Is that the way that this is supposed to work?"

Things had gone from tense and awkward to an atmosphere that was downright hostile in a heartbeat, and it was obvious that the people around us were starting to get nervous, so I forced myself to calm down as much as I possibly could. The last thing that I needed was a run-in with any kind of law enforcement, but that was where I was headed, if I didn't calm down, and it would be a little hard, I would imagine, for me to see Lily as often as I would have liked to, if I was to find myself behind bars again.

"I'm sorry, Tommy, I just thought that you might be willing to consider the possibility of the two of us getting to know each other again, since you've gotten friendly with this woman….."

I looked around the room of the diner, nodding my head to each and every person who looked at me, while I struggled to smile, in an effort to show them that I was perfectly normal, and just as calm as a person ought to be.

"Lily is my business," I told him, carefully keeping my voice level as I spoke. "She's no concern of yours, or Pop's, or anyone else, for that matter. "I can't say that I'll never be able to get along with you, Brendan, truth be told, I hope that there's a chance for that, but today is not that day. Maybe you can call me up sometime without an ulterior motive, and maybe then we'll be able to rebuild things with one another, but right now I'm going to go my own way, alright?"

I didn't wait for him to answer me. I had to get out of there as quickly as possible, I had to seek out a place where I felt safe and secure, and surprisingly enough, it wasn't my home that I thought of as a refuge. There was only one place where I wanted to be at that moment, there was only one person that I wanted to see…I just hoped that she wanted me there.

Lily's POV

"We missed you on Sunday."

Ah, there it was. We'd had such a nice visit, one that stretched out over two hours, once we'd gotten past the initial post argument uneasiness, but I should have known that it was too good to be true, I should have known that the topic would spring out of hiding sooner or later. I suppose that I ought to have been grateful that she'd waited until she was leaving to bring up the elephant that was crouching in the corner of the room, but it wouldn't have hurt my feelings if she'd just let it alone altogether.

"Did you have other plans?"

I could hear the implication in her words, the one that said that she knew that I'd had plans that had everything to do with my next-door neighbor, and she was right. I _had_ spent the day with Tommy, and I'd had a great time, even though we'd passed the time channel surfing and vegging out on the sofa, which was not all that different from what I would have done on my own, though it was a lot more fun, having him there with me, especially since it meant that he held my hand while we watched TV, and hugged me goodbye before he went home.

"I didn't think that it would be a good idea to stroll into the lion's den so soon after I swatted the king of the pride on his nose and kicked both of the princes in the….."

"I get the point," she interrupted, holding up her hands, like she was surrendering to me. "Granted that it's not set in stone that you spend each and every Sunday with us, but it would have been nice to settle the dust in the air, and how are we going to do that if you won't come over to the house? Lily, you know your father, and you know your brothers, and you ought to know by now that they have never, and will never hesitate to tell you what their opinion on a topic is….."

"Oh, sure, _they_ won't hesitate, and that's just part of their personality, and I'm expected to accept it, but God forbid that I should attempt to voice my own opinion, because that is an unforgiveable offense, isn't it?"

I was trying really hard to keep my voice down, and I knew that she was doing the same, but this was one of those conversations that made whispering impossible. Mom was going to take Dad's side, that was a given, but couldn't she admit, just once, that he wasn't always right, that he made plenty of mistakes, and that it wasn't an insult to God Himself if she didn't go along with each and every single thing that her husband said and/or did?

"I don't want to argue with you, Lily. I'm going to go ahead and leave before one of us says something that we'll regret later on. I hope that you will come for dinner on Sunday, I'd like to begin the planning for your father's birthday party, and everyone's going to make an effort to be there, and you know how hard that is."

I knew that what she really meant was that she was going to leave before _I_ said something that we would regret, but I was willing to let that go. Mom and I had always been close with one another, in spite of me going head-to-head with Dad, and I knew that it would be childish to stay away because of the fear of another argument, and, even more than that, I knew that the day would come when I would regret doing so.

"I'll be there will bells on," I promised her, hugging her close, and kissing her cheek, just like I always did. I held the door open and watched her walk away, staying right where I was until she was out of sight, waving both times when she looked back, and then I closed the door and went to work cleaning off the table, where I'd piled the loaves of bread and jars of pickles that she'd bought to accompany the deli meat and cheese, thinking to myself that I'd love to have a nap before I ate supper, but a knock at the door told me that I'd have to wait.

My first thought, my only thought, really, was that Mom had forgotten something, and that was why I didn't peep through the security lens…well, that and the fact that I was just a little scatterbrained, so imagine my surprise when I opened the door and found Tommy standing on the other side, looking sad, downright forlorn, as a matter of fact, like someone had kicked both him _and_ his favorite puppy.

"Tommy, what's wrong?" I asked, forgetting all of my own problems in an instant. "What happened….?"

He stepped through the door, pushing me back into my apartment. "I'm sorry to barge in on you like this," he said softly, and slid his arms around me, pulling me close to his chest and holding me like he never meant to let me go. "But I really need this right now. Is that alright?"

_Is that alright_? I thought to myself, _is he really asking me that question? Doesn't he know the answer already_?

I couldn't say with any certainty what he knew and what he didn't know. All that I knew, all that I cared about was the feel of him as I held him as close as I could. That was enough for now, it was enough for the next thirty minutes, at the very least. I just hoped that I wouldn't forget myself and cop a feel while we were both vulnerable, because that wouldn't be right at all…would it?


	6. Chapter Six

Chapter Six

Lily's POV

His hands were caressing my back, I could feel the warmth of his palms, I thought that I might have even been able to feel the callouses that he'd placed upon his flesh throughout the years, the ones that had felt so wonderful when he was holding my hand. He had loosened his hold on me somewhat, which had been a bit of a disappointment to begin with, but that was before he started moving his hands, from my waist, up to my shoulders, which he massaged, before moving back down again, gently kneading every inch of my back as he did so, and I realized that there was a lot to be said for a looser embrace, just so long as it involved the sort of stroking that he was showing me at that moment.

I knew that I ought to have stayed as still, and as quiet as possible, because that would have been the normal, not freaky at all thing to do, wouldn't it? See, it wasn't that I didn't know what I should and shouldn't do, no, my tendency toward doing and saying things that I really oughtn't was because I went with what I felt more often than not, which meant that my brain typically wasn't even consulted on the current topic. I knew better, and I'd told myself time and time again that I had to stop being so impulsive, which was very good advice…but that didn't stop me from rising up onto my tiptoes, to wriggle and snuggle against Tommy, all while I practically purred like a kitty cat, did it?

To be completely honest, I wasn't even aware of what I had done until I felt him grow very still against me, and I cussed myself inside of my head, where he wouldn't be able to hear me, because the last thing that I needed was to give him further proof that my head wasn't on nearly as straight as it needed to be. I might have known that I would do something to mess things up before they really had a chance to get started. I berated myself for that, I called myself a hundred different kinds of fool, and told myself to turn loose of him and move away from him before I humiliated either one of us any further, but when I tried to release him, he tightened his hold on me, and pulled me close all over again, and it dawned on me that maybe I hadn't offended him after all.

"God, I hope not," I said, and felt my face positively flame with embarrassment when I realized that I'd said the words aloud, when I ought to have kept them to myself.

"What was that, Lily?" he asked quietly, running his hands in a slow stroking motion, first one, then the other, up and down my back. "I didn't hear what you said."

Phew, that was good news, though I wasn't out of the woods just yet, was I? He might not have heard exactly what I'd said, but the fact remained that he was completely aware that I had said _something_, and what's more, he was curious to know what it was that I'd said, which meant that I was in trouble, no matter which way you looked at things, no ifs, ands, or buts about it.

"Oh, it was nothing important," I murmured, loosening my hold on his waist, so that I could splay my hands on his back, and marvel, just like I always did, at the impressive muscles that I could feel beneath my palms. "Just a little random "I feel like I'm floating" gibberish."

Damn, I hadn't meant to say that. Why had I said that? I could have easily _thought_ it, couldn't I? There really wasn't any reason for me to say it out loud, was there? I was pretty certain by this point that Tommy liked me; he would have to, to put up with my weirdness the way that he did, wouldn't he? Of course, it was possible that he just felt sorry for me, but if that was the case he'd limit his visits to once a week or so, wouldn't he, so why was he coming over to see me almost every day?

I heard him chuckle, and even better, I felt his chest moving against mine, and his back rippling beneath my hands while he laughed at me. I suppose that it should have hurt my feelings, to know that he was finding humor in my embarrassment, but why shouldn't he have a little fun at my expense? Wasn't it something that we learned from the time that we were born, to laugh at the misfortune of others? When I thought about it that way, it made perfect sense that he found so much enjoyment in my humiliation, but for some reason I just couldn't appreciate the fact that he did.

"Am I the one who's making you float, or was it something or some_one_ else?" he asked quietly, and I couldn't help, I just couldn't keep myself from shuddering, from the top of my head to the tip of my toes, when I felt the soft brush of his mouth against my ear, and the warmth of his breath as it washed over my neck, in that shiver inducing spot that rested right beneath my earlobe.

Aw, geez…how should I answer him, how _could_ I answer him? There was that old saying that said that honesty was the best policy, and it was one that I employed in my day-to-day life, because lying was something that I abhorred. That being said, in moments like this one, not that I'd known many moments like the one that I was trying to get through, it could be said that it might be best to employ a little bit of a falsehood, a wee, tiny, insignificant white lie. The only bad thing about that plan was the fact that I knew that there was no such thing in existence, and that meant that I had no choice but to be honest with him, no matter how painful doing so might prove to be.

"It's you, of course," I whispered, hoping that he wouldn't hear me clearly that time either, until it dawned on me that it would be a million times worse if he didn't, because then I would have to repeat myself. "What else could it possibly be, who else could make me float the way that you do?"

Double damn. I _really_ shouldn't have said that out loud. Why couldn't I be like everyone else? Why couldn't I have been made like every other person who roamed the Earth, the sort who had a filter, a censor of sorts, located between their brain and their mouth, to filter out everything that was inappropriate and embarrassing, and keep the person who'd had a thought that was best kept to themselves silent, so that they wouldn't make a fool of themselves? That would have been wonderful, it would have been a blessing, but unfortunately I seemed doomed to continuously place myself in situations where I wanted to, and, even worse, _needed_ to stick my foot in my mouth.

It felt like he'd stopped breathing for a minute, and then he took a deep breath, one that caused his back to noticeably ripple beneath my palms. He pulled me close after that, closer than he had before, so much so that his hands rested on my sides, instead of on my back. I could feel him in ways that I'd never imagined I would be able to, though I had done plenty of dreaming, both at night, and during the day, of a moment such as this. He hesitated for just a second or two, and then his hands began to move, in that slow and sensual caress that he'd shown me on my back and he rocked our bodies slowly, back and forth, back and forth, until I started to feel kind of sleepy, wonderfully warm and content, and just a tiny bit drowsy.

"I guess that's something that we have in common, isn't it?" he asked softly, his voice filled with a touch of sleepiness, and with something that sounded like it might have been uncertainty and just a touch of self-consciousness. "I make you float, and you make me float. I guess it's lucky that we found one another, isn't it?"

My breath froze, then a zing went through me that would have had me shimmying against him, just like I was before, but he was holding me too tightly, and I couldn't do more than smile, though I was happy dancing like a loon inside, where he couldn't see me. I had a feeling that he was berating himself for saying what he had out loud, but I was thrilled, no, I was ecstatic, no, I was downright _rapturous_ at that moment, and I knew that my face was going to hurt later on, because I wouldn't be able to wipe the smile off for six hours or so, at the very least.

"Yes, it is," I murmured, raising myself as much as I could, as much as he would allow me, so that I could rub my nose against the base of his throat. "And what's even luckier is that your hand is rubbing against my boob right now…that will make for some really nice fantasies later, once I've gone to bed….."

Triple damn…now why in the hell had I said that? It seemed like I was asking myself that question a lot today, wasn't I? Of course, it was true that his hand was touching my boob, I hadn't lied, but I hadn't meant to mention it to him. I'd meant to keep it to myself, so that I could think on it later, when the lights were out and I was all alone. Of course, I hadn't meant to say anything about my fantasies either, which meant that I had to add a quadruple damn to the list…and then it dawned on me that I wasn't wearing a bra, which meant that I needed a quintuple, and, the worst of all, that meant that my boobs were wiggling and jiggling, and less than sexy, which meant that I'd made it all the way to the sextuple level of damning, hadn't I?

He pulled back and looked at me, and I could see the disbelief in his eyes just as plain as day, but only for a moment, then something that could only be described as a mixture of wonder and happiness took its place. He bent his head and pressed his lips to my forehead, then each brow, beneath each eye, on my chin, then finally, one cheek, followed by the other, and then he leaned back and smiled at me, a full force, genuine smile that made that zing race through me all over again.

"I was hoping that you wouldn't notice that," he said softly, the tone of his voice adding to that zing, and making it a little quivery around the edges. "But it's good to know that we'll both be thinking about the same things as we go to sleep, isn't it?"

Septuple damn.

Tommy's POV

I wasn't a people person by nature, truth be told, I tried to avoid contact with my fellow human being as much as possible, but Paul Thomas had been nice to me, and his son Brad seemed to idolize me, so what choice did I have but to attend their barbeque party after they invited me? I told myself that it wasn't going to be so bad, I told myself that I would have fun, that I would enjoy myself, and given the fact that Lily was going along as my date, I knew that it was a very real possibility that I wasn't lying to myself.

I still hadn't managed to wrap my head around the things that she'd said to me that afternoon in her living room, much less the things that I'd said to her, but I did know that I liked her, a lot, and that meant that I was starting to develop a possessiveness toward her. It had been two days since I'd held her, since I'd been held, since I'd kissed her all over her face, except for the one place where I wanted to kiss her the most…since I'd copped the feel that I had, and had been caught, and found out, to my surprise, that she hadn't minded at all, and now she was going to the barbeque with me, as my date, and that was great, but somehow it still wasn't enough, because she was starting to be more than that to me.

She was my girl…Tommy Conlon finally had a girl, wouldn't everyone be surprised?

It wasn't that I'd never had a girlfriend before, after all, I hadn't lived my life like a monk, but it had been a while since there'd been a woman in my life, a long, _long_ while, enough so that it was kind of depressing to think about how pathetic I was. Well, I suppose that I ought to make that how depressing I had been, because I was slowly turning away from that guy, I was changing a little, day by day, and becoming someone new, someone who was happier in his life and more content, and that was probably why I wanted to go to the Thomas' barbeque, though, if I was being honest, I'd have to say that there was a part of me, a pretty big part, that was anxious to show off Lily as my girl.

I always picked her up for our dates, and today was no exception, though she kept me waiting a little longer than she usually did, all while she shouted through the door that she was almost ready, and to give her just five more minutes. Her voice never sounded like she was standing right beside the door as she spoke to me, which meant that she hadn't checked to see who had knocked, that she hadn't ensured that I was the one who was waiting for her, and I hoped that her carelessness in this instance wasn't one that she made a habit of on a regular basis.

She left me waiting outside, sweltering, even though I was standing in the shade, for almost five minutes, by my watch, until she finally opened the door. Normally I would have been irritated by that point, and I was, to some degree, but all of that was forgotten when I saw her legs, bared to the knee by her shorts, a white V-neck tee that resembled the one that she'd been wearing the other day, though it would seem that that she'd remembered her bra this time, and a pair of brown leather sandals that showed off her toenails, which were painted to match her lipstick.

She'd pulled her hair back into a ponytail and was practically dancing back and forth from one foot to the other. If I hadn't known better I might have thought that she needed to pee, but I'd learned enough by now to know that she was just happy to see me, and that made me feel good. It also made me feel good when she practically launched herself into my arms to hold me tight, because I was the one who usually initiated the hugs, and also because it always made me feel better, to have her wrapped around me, and I took a few moments to appreciate her, to dip my head and nuzzle my nose against her neck before I made myself back away from her and act like a gentleman, while I still remembered how to do so.

I looked behind her, expecting to see a couple of dishes that she'd prepared to take along to the barbeque, because she'd insisted on bringing something along, and felt my eyes go wide when I saw that there weren't just a couple, there were seven in all, each of them big, to hold several servings. I did a double take, then a triple take, and then I looked at her and raised one eyebrow, and almost laughed when she turned bright red and started shifting from one foot to the other, in a little dance that had nothing whatsoever to do with being happy to see me, and nothing at all to do with peeing…at least, I was pretty sure that it didn't.

"Are you planning on feeding everyone there all by yourself?" I asked teasingly, almost kissing her when I saw her blush deepen, and her teeth go to work, nibbling away on her bottom lip. "It's not that I'm complaining, because I'm looking forward to trying each and every one of them, but I don't think that Mrs. Thomas expected this much help, Lily."

She started dancing again, and this time she started to turn her big toe against the floor, then stopped before she did anything to ruin the paint job that she'd applied to her toenails. "I know that it's a lot, and I honestly didn't mean to make so much, but I couldn't help it in the end," she explained, tucking her hands behind her back, in a thoroughly childlike move while she explained herself, though there wasn't anything even remotely childlike about how her doing so accentuated her breasts. "I meant to make potato salad and turtle brownies, and that was it, but before I knew what was what I'd added baked beans, pasta salad, snickerdoodle Bundt cake, peach cobbler and strawberry shortcake to the pile as well. I'm such a goof, aren't I?"

She was adorable, that was what she was, and yes, a little goofy at times, but that was all part of her charm. She had my mouth watering from the mention of the turtle brownies, because it felt like years had passed by since I'd tasted those, and I knew that the snickerdoodle cake was delicious as well, which was why it stood to reason that everything else would be just as tasty, and I started to plot and scheme ways that I would be able to divert all of the others guests away from what she was bringing, so that I could have it all to myself.

"There's nothing goofy about generosity," I told her, moving inside to bag up her bowls and pans. "It's just rare, that's all."

She got really quiet while she helped me, after I said that, and at first I was afraid that I'd upset her somehow, especially when I saw the way that her eyes were shining. But then I realized that what I'd thought were tears was actually just happiness, and it made me feel good about myself, to know that I'd done so well. I couldn't remember another time when I'd had so many "attaboy" moments in one day, all that I knew was that it had been a long time, and we were only halfway through the day, which meant that I was doing pretty good…maybe this barbeque wasn't such a bad idea after all.

* * *

I must have been a fool to accept the invitation to this barbeque, an out-and-out dunce, a moron who needed his head examined, because it was obvious that his brain had gone missing at some point. It wasn't that I wasn't having a good time, because I was, surprisingly enough, even though both of my ears were ringing from listening to little Brad Thomas rattle on, nonstop, about one thing or another since I arrived. I didn't mind the crowd, and the food, especially that which had been made by Lily, was delicious. All in all, there was no reason for me to be as miserable as I was…except for the sight of my girl, standing beside the swimming pool, in a bathing suit that had my mouth watering all over again.

I'd told her that it was a swimming party, even though I had no intention of stripping down to a swimsuit myself. I thought that she had shared my point of view, but that was because I hadn't noticed the two-piece that she'd slipped into her bag. Of course, I wasn't having any problem at all noticing the suit now that it was on her, hugging her curves in a way that was sexy, but decent, with a top that covered all but the top slopes of her breasts, and a bottom that covered hers, and had a flirty little ruffle running around the middle. Long story short, she looked good enough to eat…and I wasn't the only one who'd noticed either.

"Boy, she sure makes a picture standing there, don't she, Tommy?" Brad said appreciatively, standing beside my lawn chair, decked out in a pair of swim trunks that were colored with stripes of red, white and blue. I'd been "Mr. Conlon" for the first hour of the barbeque, but now I was "Tommy", though he still said it with a sort of reverence in his voice that might have made me smile, had I not noticed the fact that there was a trio of guys sitting a short ways away from me that were watching Lily in a way that I didn't like, while they whispered and laughed, which I liked even less.

"What's that, kiddo?" I asked distractedly, while I did my best to ignore the impulse to straighten out the guys that were getting all hot and bothered over my girl.

"That Lily, she sure is pretty," he said, smiling at me when I turned to look at him, a knowing sort of grin that made him seem wise beyond his years. "Don't tell her I said that, 'cause I'm not supposed to like girls yet, I don't think that I'm supposed to until I'm twelve, at least. But I can see that she's a looker, and I can see that you think that she's the best of the best, the top of the lookers, don't you?"

I smiled a little and looked back at Lily. "I sure do," I agreed. "What else do you see, if you don't mind me asking?"

He looked over at the trio that were giving me so much trouble, then he looked back at me. "I can see that there's no reason for you to be jealous of anyone," he said, in a tone that was almost know-it-all in fashion. "So I don't know why you're wasting your time on that, when you ought to over there with her instead."

As if on cue, Lily turned and smiled at me, then she waved, and after that she rushed over to me, and parts of her were moving in ways that were almost criminal in nature, which both pleased and annoyed me, because I knew that the trio were watching and appreciating every wobble and jiggle. All of that was forgotten when she reached me, first, because she didn't even glance at them, and secondly, because she bent to kiss my cheek, after she'd tweaked Brad's nose, and then she pulled me to my feet, taking one of my hands in hers, and the boy's in the other, and led us to the side of the pool, keeping my good feelings running high…and then she pushed me in.


	7. Chapter Seven

Chapter Seven

Tommy's POV

I knew that Lily fully expected me to retaliate against her for pushing me into the pool at the Thomas' barbeque. I knew that she was waiting anxiously for the moment to arrive when I would exact my revenge, and normally I wouldn't have even considered drawing things out and making her suffer, but I found that I kind of liked making her sweat it out. I'd always been more of a reactionary sort, I always responded in an instant, but I was finding that I enjoyed prolonging the moment, I kind of liked making her all nervous and jumpy…I especially liked the peace offerings that she brought me before she went to her parents' house, particularly the turtle brownies.

I'd just put four of them on a plate, after talking myself out of the six that I'd originally wanted, and had carried them, along with a tall, frosty glass of milk into the living room when someone knocked at my door. I figured that it wasn't Lily, because she'd already left for her parents' house, but then it occurred to me that she might have left without her keys, or that she might have locked her keys into her apartment and that was why I answered the door without looking outside to verify who it was.

That was a big mistake.

I'd made up my mind that Lily was the one who was waiting for me on the landing and that was why I had a smile on my face when I opened the door, but I found a woman that I recognized from a photo and two kids instead. Tess Conlon was a symbol for me, one that meant that my brother chose a life that didn't have anything to do with the one that my mother and I had led. She represented a lot of the pain in my life, a lot of the hurt and the anger, and the sight of her made my stomach hurt, it enraged me, and I wanted to slam the door in her face, and I might have done that, if it hadn't been for the kids.

I'd seen Tess at Sparta, but I hadn't spoken to her. What could I have possibly said to her then? I didn't know what words to use then, to express everything that I thought and felt, and I still didn't know what I ought to say, let alone what voice to use when I said it. I stared at her instead and felt the smile sliding off of my face, little by little, bit by bit, until I was frowning, and I might have stayed that way, but it seemed that the kids, my _nieces_, had other plans for me.

"What's that?" the youngest one, I think they called her Rosie, asked, pointing one tiny finger toward me, or, more specifically, to the plate that held my brownies. "That cake looks really yummy. Can I have a piece of it, please, Uncle Tommy?"

She was right when she said that it looked yummy, and I already knew that it tasted just as good as it looked. What I wasn't as certain about was whether or not I had it in me to share any of my brownies with her. I suppose that I ought to have felt an immediate urge to share what Lily had made for me with the little cutie, and with her sister as well, but it had been a good long while since I'd had to share anything, especially something that I really liked, and the selfish part of my personality encouraged me to keep them all for myself.

I was searching my mind for an answer, and discarding those that I knew were bound to be hurtful in nature, and those that were just downright impolite, and then it dawned on me that they were still standing in the doorway, when the most basic of manners dictated that I ought to have invited them inside. I wasn't all that keen on the notion of bringing them into my home, but they were family, no matter what my opinion on that subject might have been, and I couldn't leave them on the landing, so I opened the door further and stood back, hoping that they'd take the hint, and make an entrance, without making me offer the invitation aloud.

"Quit being rude, Rosie," the older girl, I think her name was Emily, said, shaking her index finger at her little sister, in the manner of a miniature parent, as she followed their mother inside. "I'm sure that Uncle Tommy would be happy to share his cake with us, but we need to wait for him to give us a piece of it. Isn't that right, Mommy?"

Tess looked at me and started to laugh, but then she saw something on my face that made her stop the sound in its tracks, and turn the giggle to a smile instead, but even that attempt fell short and it dawned on me that the look on my face must have been downright fearsome, if she was second-guessing a grin. It wasn't that I was trying to intimidate her, or make her feel uneasy, it's just what came natural to me, it was what I was in the habit of doing, and there weren't many who'd bothered to break through the unfriendly image, though, I had to say, my nieces didn't look like they were buying my tough guy image as much as their mother was.

"That's right, Emily," she agreed, smiling at her eldest daughter, then at the younger one, though she paired the smile with raised eyebrows as well. "I'm really sorry to barge in on you like this, unannounced, Tommy, but I was pretty sure that you would tell me to stay away if I was to call you before I came, and there's something that I needed to ask you, without Brendan knowing what I'm up to."

Hmm…that certainly made things a lot more interesting than they'd been. Intrigue wasn't enough to make my irritation go away, not completely, but it did help to lessen it somewhat. "What's the big secret?" I asked, bending to place my plate and my glass on the coffee table, then, after one last longing look I turned my attention to my sister-in-law. "And how does it apply to me?"

I wasn't smiling at that moment, but I wasn't scowling either, so I couldn't help but wonder why she was acting nervous. She wouldn't look me in the eye, and she kept grabbing the fingers of one hand with the other, twisting her rings all about, while her eyes darted here and there, concentrating anywhere, on anything that wasn't me, all while she chewed on her bottom lip to the point that it ought to have been getting pretty sore.

"I'm not going to attack you," I said, in a tone that I hoped would convey friendliness, and give no indication at all of sarcasm. "I'm not going to pound my fists against the wall, or cuss you out, or threaten you in any way. I know that I seem like a mindless brute most of the time, but I do know how to communicate with my fellow human being, so, please, tell me what I need to know."

I could see that she wasn't convinced by my attempt to assure her that I was one of the good guys, beneath all of the bluff and the brawn, and that made me feel uneasy. I'd seen enough of my father bullying my mother when I was growing up to know that I never wanted a woman to look at me the way that Mom had looked at Pop, no matter who she was to me. I can't explain the look that comes over a person's face when they're scared of someone, it's something that you have to see for yourself in order to know it, but it was a look that I never wanted to see on a woman or a child, and the only way that I wanted to see it on a man's face was if he was dumb enough to crawl into the ring with me. That was a time, more often than not, that he had every reason to be scared, because the chances were pretty good that I was going to stomp him into the ground, and that's not bragging either, because it's not bragging when it's a fact, is it?

"Your father's birthday is coming up in two weeks, and I thought that it would be nice if we were all to get together, as a family, and have a party to celebrate. I know that Brendan would disagree with me, but I think that it's past time for us to remember that we're family, and that we need one another, and I especially want the girls to have a chance to know their grandfather. That's why I came here, uninvited, so that I could ask you for your help with this."

She'd finally stopped to take a breath, which gave me a chance to break into the conversation, but it was a small window, so I knew that I'd better talk fast. "We've never really been a family," I said, feeling a headache coming on, just like I always did when this particular subject came up. "Not one that anyone would want, that is. We've never been the sort that leans on one another, or takes strength from each other, so why should we bother pretending now? Those kids are better off not knowing Paddy Conlon, if you want to know my opinion. I knew him for most of my life, and it sure as hell didn't do anything to better me."

"He said _hell_," I heard a tiny voice whisper from behind me, sounding both horrified and delighted, which, I suppose, was to be expected. I could remember the first time that I'd heard an adult say a forbidden word in my presence, and I could recall that I'd felt that sort of shocked enjoyment myself, though the novelty had quickly worn off, given all of the foul language that I'd heard my father volley in my mother's direction, and at Brendan and me as well.

"There's always a chance for us to make up for what we didn't have in the past," Tess said, ignoring her daughter's outrage for my slight mishap where a little light latrine lip was concerned, choosing instead to hand out a few words of wisdom that sounded like she'd memorized them off of a Hallmark card. "It's always for the best, to be around family, no matter what their past mistakes may have been and I for one….."

"You for one, don't know what you're talking about," I interrupted, keeping my voice as calm as possible, one, because I wasn't all that fond of losing my temper with a woman, and two, because I'd grown up around an adult who spent most of his time yelling, and it had been a jarring experience, to say the least, so I wasn't inclined to put my nieces through the same trauma, no matter how brief. "I don't know how much Brendan told you about our childhood, but let's just say that it's best for both of us to leave it in the past, to let it die there, where it can't hurt anyone anymore, alright?"

"Tommy, I'm sorry….."

"I don't want to hear any apologies from you, or from Brendan, or Pop, or anyone, alright? I've moved on with my life, I'm fine where I am, and I don't need family or parties or any of that bull…er…_stuff_ to make me feel complete. I don't mean to bite your head off, or to act like a…_jerk_…but you can just count me out of the party plans, alright?"

I had expected her to look a little upset, maybe even a little mad, but what I hadn't expected was the look of outright horror that was on her face at that moment, and I wondered what I could have said that would have made her look so awful…then it dawned on me that she wasn't looking at _me_, she was looking behind me, where her girls were sitting. There was something inside of me that encouraged me to wimp out and ignore whatever it was that they'd done, but another part that was born from some sort of morbid curiosity that told me to look, to gawk at them, but I still wouldn't look, not until I heard the words that came out of Tess' mouth, that is.

"I can't believe that you girls would do such an awful thing to your Uncle Tommy," she said softly, in a tone that was filled with shock and disbelief. "Where are the manners that you were taught, hmm? Emily? Rosie? Well, girls, what do you have to say for yourselves?"

The only thing that was back there that they could have possibly destroyed was my Xbox, or maybe my new flat screen, and the destruction of either, or, God help, both of them would definitely be enough to piss me off, but then I remembered that I hadn't heard the sound of anything breaking. I turned around slowly, certain that I was prepared for the worst.

I was mistaken. I was completely, and very sadly, mistaken.

The little monsters had devoured the plate of brownies that I had left on the coffee table, all four of them, and then they'd fetched the dish that held the rest, four in all, and they'd scarfed those down as well. That was bad enough, that was enough to set my blood to boiling, but then they'd drained my glass of milk as well, which added insult to injury, and I was tempted, very, _very_ tempted, to let them see just a hint of my temper, my vows to keep the darker side of my personality to myself be damned.

"I'm sorry, Uncle Tommy," the oldest demon, Emily, said, wiping the back of her hand, which was smeared with chocolate, against her nose, turning it brown in the process. "I should have asked your permission before I ate any of your cake…but it's really yummy. Did you make it yourself?"

I turned to the other hellion, the baby one, and raised an eyebrow at her, inviting her to offer her own apology, but apparently she thought that she could smooth things over by smiling at me and batting her eyes, all while the tip of her tongue darted out of her mouth to swipe at her milk mustache and bits of brownie, of _my_ brownies, that surrounded her mouth.

"_Psst_…Rosie, tell Uncle Tommy that you're sorry for eating his cake without his permission," Emily whispered, elbowing her baby sister in the ribs, a move that prompted Rosie to kick her sister in the shins.

I wasn't a father, but that didn't mean that I didn't smell an all-out war when it was on the not so distant horizon, and I decided to step in and take control of the situation before their Mom launched her own counterattack. Of course, there was another reason for my doing so, an ulterior motive, you might say, to get back at them for devouring my brownies. I suppose that there were plenty of people who would say that it was mean of me to play a trick on them, after all, they were just kids, but given the choice of messing with their minds just a bit, or scarring them psychologically by showing my temper, I decided that teasing won hands down, no ifs, ands, or buts about it.

"That wasn't cake that you and your sister ate, Emily," I said quietly, in a tone that was much calmer than what I'd imagined I could manage, and I was very proud of myself for keeping my head and keeping my temper firmly in check. "Those were turtle brownies that my good friend Lily made for me, ones that she made _especially_ for me."

Okay, okay…I know that was kind of mean of me, but dammit, I was cranky, and there wasn't any other chocolate in the place to soothe my sweet tooth, and even if there had been, it wouldn't have been as good as those brownies were. That didn't stop me from feeling a twinge of regret when I saw their little lips pucker and wobble, but I wasn't going to allow them to see that they'd weakened me, not even the tiniest bit.

I could tell by the look that was on Tess' face that she'd caught onto my plan, but she didn't seem to be inclined to step in on her daughters' behalf anytime soon, as a matter of fact, judging by the little smile that she was wearing, I'd say that she was encouraging me to continue with my scheme. And it had been such a good plan, hadn't it? I just hadn't taken the time to think about all of the possible repercussions, and I suppose that there would be those who thought that what happened next was what I deserved, for being such a meanie to a couple of sweet little girls.

"We're really sorry, Uncle Tommy," Emily insisted, while her voice, her lips and her eyes told to me that she was on the verge of crying up a storm. "We never meant to…wait a minute…did you say that they were _turtle_ brownies? Did me and Rosie just eat a bunch of brownies with turtles in them?"

A smart man would have seen that his joke had gone on long enough at that moment. He would have smiled, and assured his nieces that everything was just fine, and that they hadn't just gorged themselves on brownies that contained turtles in any way, shape or form. That was what an intelligent man would have done, so I suppose that I _wasn't_ an intelligent man, as a matter of fact, given my actions, it was possible that I was the biggest brainless wonder who'd ever drawn a breath of life.

"Brownies that are made with turtles are the best of all," I said, taking way too much enjoyment in the sight of their eyes widening, and the slight hint of green that I could see taking hold of their faces. "You girls were lucky to have the opportunity to taste a delicacy today, though it would have been best if you'd asked before you stuffed your faces."

"I don't feel very good," Rosie whispered, taking hold of her sister's hand and tugging on it. "I don't think that my tummy likes the turtles, Emily."

Emily ignored her sister, which had to have been difficult, given the fact that Rosie was pulling so hard on her hand that she almost fell over a time or two. "The gooey stuff in the middle of the brownies…that was turtle slime, wasn't it?"

This was another one of those moments that would have encouraged a smart man to stop while he was still ahead, but I ignored it…because I was an idiot. "'Slime' isn't the word that I would use," I said, biting back a chuckle. "I think that I would use turtle _essence_ instead."

The green color on her face grew stronger, and I saw Tess move toward her from the corner of my eye, with a look on her face that made me feel the first hint of apprehension, which was telling of things to come. "The crunchy bits…those were pecans, weren't they, Uncle Tommy?" she asked hopefully, and I thought of the correct answer, _yes_, inside of my head, but for some reason the message got lost on the way to my mouth.

"The little bits of turtle shell are what give the brownies that little bit of bite," I said, laughing to myself…a laugh that died a quick and tragic death as I watch my oldest niece break out in a sweat while her throat worked furiously, her eyes traveling from me to her mother then back to me.

"I'm sorry, Mommy," she whispered, sucking in deep breaths. "I'm sorry, Uncle Tommy," she said, right before she started to cry…and then she threw up all over the floor.

Lily's POV

I had fully expected the dinner at my parents' house to be awkward and strained, given the way that I had behaved the last time that I was there, but I was pleasantly surprised, because everyone, including me, made an effort to be on our best behavior. I don't know what my mom had said to my dad, or to my brothers, but they didn't say one word to say that might offend me, and they accepted my apology the instant that I offered it…and then _they_ apologized to me. For a little while I suspected that I was dreaming, and then I pondered whether or not I'd somehow slipped into _The Twilight Zone_, but I finally decided to just accept things for what they seemed to be and ended up having a very good time.

I drove back to my apartment with a smile on my face, one that stayed firmly in place as I approached the landing outside of my front door, but slowly faded, then died when I saw that Tommy's door was wide open. There were plenty of people who would do something like that on a hot day, _I_ would do that myself, though I'd probably regret it, once the bug population discovered the open portal into my living space, but Tommy didn't seem like that sort of person.

I tiptoed toward his front door, I don't know why I did that, but I just couldn't make my feet walk normally at that moment. I suppose that it was because there was so much mystery surrounding this uncharacteristic move by Tommy, not to mention the tiny bit of apprehension that made me feel like I was in a horror movie. I reached the side of the door quickly enough, but it took me awhile to work up the nerve to look inside…and that was when the smell hit me, a mix of Pine Sol, which I loved, followed by puke, which made me gag.

There was a scene in that movie _The Birdcage_, where the butler, Agador, spiced up the normally boring and tedious chore of mopping by donning a pair of cutoff denim shorts that showed that he had a beautiful set of legs. That was what I was reminded of when I peeked through the door and saw Tommy wielding a Wonder Mop. Granted, he wasn't wearing a wig, or a bikini top, and he wasn't dancing the conga and his shorts weren't super short or denim or cutoffs of any kind, but they showed off beautifully muscular legs and made me weak in the knees none the less.

I'd been so worried that he was going to stay mad at me after I'd pushed him into the pool, because I'd obviously infuriated him, but my culinary peace offerings had seemed to please him, and I had an idea that he'd be willing to forgive me altogether if I helped him clean up the stinky mess off of his floor. After all, if cleaning up puke wasn't a selfless act, then I don't know what I could possibly hope to do to make amends.

I tapped my fingers on the doorjamb, and stifled a giggle when he jumped in the air in response. I reminded myself that I was attempting to make peace, and laughing at him, because I'd startled him, wasn't likely to bring me back around to his good side anytime soon. I waved at him instead, and smiled, which was quite a feat, given the stink that was in the air, and then I sauntered inside without waiting for an invitation, not realizing, until after I'd moved, that my assumption that I could do so might serve to make him angry at me all over again.

"Hiya, Tommy," I said brightly, hoping that my attempts to radiate happiness and bounciness would encourage him to follow my lead. "I'm sorry to barge in on you without an invitation, but it smelled like…er…that is, it _looked_ like you could use a little help."

He looked a little irritated, to say the very least, but thankfully it didn't seem like his annoyance was directed toward me. "You're always welcome here, Lily," he said, dunking the mop into a bucket that foamed and frothed and let loose with the aroma of Pine Sol that appealed to me more than it ought to. "I had uninvited visitors earlier, my sister-in-law and my nieces, and they're the ones who puked all over the floor."

There was a lot to that story, I could tell that from the sound of his voice, but I wasn't going to press him any further on the subject. "Was it your sister-in-law who got sick, or your nieces, or did they all join in together to make one hell of a mess?"

I meant to lighten the mood a bit, and it worked, because he kind of smiled at me. Not a genuine smile, mind you, but one that would work for the time being. "Well, let's just say that my nieces Emily and Rosie filched and devoured the brownies that you made for me, which made me mad, and I decided to play a joke on them, rather than yelling at them, it backfired on me, Emily tossed her cookies, that is, she tossed my brownies, and Rosie decided to follow her lead. It's a long story, and a painful one as well, so let's just leave it alone for right now, alright?"

I nodded and picked up the bottle of 409 that he'd set on the floor beside the bucket. "Sounds like I owe you another batch of brownies, doesn't it?" I asked, kneeling and spraying the spot where the vomit had made its way into the carpet, saturating it, to let it soak, in the hope that the stain wouldn't stick. "Though, I suppose, given the circumstances, you might not want any more of them for a while, huh?"

The sickening scent was lessening bit by bit, until it was hardly noticeable at all. The rug would need to be shampooed, to ensure that it was completely clean, but it could stay as it was for the time being. He'd done a good job of cleaning up the wood floor, as a matter of fact I was willing to bet that it would sparkle and shine once it was dry, and he put the mop into the bucket with a sigh…one that turned to a vicious, but muffled, curse when the bucket tipped and spilled the water all over the floor.

I threw all of the rags that I could find on the mess, while he raced to get some towels, and between the two of us we cleaned it up quickly, and made everything just as good as new. He put the soaked towels into the bucket after we were through, then rose to his feet and held out his hand to help me up.

"A little vomit isn't liable to put me off of your brownies anytime soon, Lily," he said softly, with a smile that made my toes curl. "I'm not that easily offended, I assure you…"

I don't know why I slipped, I can't tell you how I managed it, but my doing so caught Tommy off-guard and made him scramble to catch me before I sent both of us tumbling to the ground. I hadn't moved, so it didn't make any sense that I had lost my balance, but I did so anyway, and had plenty of reason to blush furiously and curse myself…but then he steadied me, and somehow I ended up being held in his arms, very tightly, I might add, while he stared down into my eyes, and then, to my delight, drew his bottom lip between his teeth and nibbled on it.

"Has anyone ever told you how pretty your lips are?" I asked softly, too dazed at that moment to give much thought to how silly I sounded, or to the fact that I was on the verge of making a complete fool of myself. "I know that doesn't sound right, to say they're pretty, since you're a man, but they really are, and I think that they'd feel really good pressed against _my_ lips, absolutely heavenly, to say the least….."

I could feel my face getting hotter, and I had plenty of time to realize how foolish I sounded, and feel shame over the fact that I was making an ass of myself, and I might have turned and ran away, but his arms held me tight. The smile that had left him when I slipped returned, and grew stronger, and he slowly drew his hands around to cup my face, and then he made my heart skip a beat by rubbing his thumb across my lips.

He bent his head toward me, little by little, until I could feel his breath, warm on my face. "Well, there's only one way to know for sure, isn't there?" he whispered, then his eyelids fluttered shut, and mine followed his lead, and I felt the soft press of his flesh against mine as he proceeded to turn me inside out and upside down with the sweetest and simplest of caresses. I felt a wonderful warmth traveling through me, infusing every part of my body, taking hold and control of me, until my foot started tapping, slowly at first, then faster and faster, beating out a furious rhythm against the floor while he massaged my lips with his.

He pulled back away from me, and I stumbled forward, which would have made me blush, but then I felt his palms trembling and knew that I wasn't the only one who felt all shaken up. It was funny to think that such a strong man would be affected by little old me, and it was amazing as well, and I raised my fingertips to my lips, in the hopes of holding that kiss there forever,

"I'd say that you were right about that, weren't you, Lily?" he asked quietly, pulling me close all over again.

"Well, there's only one way to find out for sure, isn't there?" I asked, pulling his head down for a second go 'round. I already knew the answer, I'd felt it all the way to the tip of my toes, but there was no harm in making sure, was there?


	8. Chapter Eight

Chapter Eight

Lily's POV

I'd spent the day cleaning my apartment from top to bottom and the resulting shine and smell made me proud, even though the cleanliness had come with cost of absolute exhaustion. It was fortunate for me that I was so excited about seeing Tommy again, about greeting him at the door with a kiss, about making small talk while I moved around the kitchen, plating the meal that I'd made for us, and giving him another kiss, about lingering over dessert, and kissing him yet again, about whiling away the hours with a movie or dancing on my living room rug, and convincing him that I needed just one more kiss…..

"For crying out loud," I muttered, twisting my body into contortions that proved painful to my back and shoulders to pull up the zipper on the new dress that I'd bought with the hopes of conveying prettiness and a flirtatious flair. "You've got to stop thinking about kissing him. How on earth are you going to make it through the entire evening in a calm and rational manner if you keep on thinking about his lips, and how they feel, and the fact that God must have given him the superpower of perfect smooching upon his birth, to match his perfect pucker….?"

A shiver coursed through me, silencing me in a heartbeat, while I recalled every wonderful second of the three kisses that we had shared in his apartment. It hadn't started out as the most romantic moment in my life, and those were all moments that I shared with my Tommy, or, as I liked to think of him, in the most secret recesses of my mind, my Sweet Baboo, but it had quickly taken the number one spot in my mind, and now it was all that I could think about.

I was not exaggerating my obsession with my memories of those kisses. They filled my waking moments, and I had experienced some steamy dreams that would have set most girls' panties to smoking, unless they were completely devoid of appreciation for the male form, that is. I woke, ate, worked and slept those kisses, and I couldn't help but wonder what I was going to do, and how inappropriate I was bound to act, if he was to actually use his tongue the next time around…provided that there was a next time around, that is.

"Oh, there has to be another time," I said loudly, in a voice that was a tad bit whinier than I would have preferred it to be. "He has to like me, doesn't he? I mean, why would he kiss me in the first place, if he didn't really like me? People don't go around smooching on people that they loathe, otherwise I would be soul kissing Vinnie D'Angelo each and every time my path crossed with his, and I think that it's pretty damned certain that polar bears would be performing moves from the Ice Capades smack-dab in the center of Hell before that happened, wouldn't they….?"

I heard a faint pounding sound that interrupted me mid-spiel, which wasn't a bad thing, and I realized that there was someone knocking on the door, which was neither good nor bad…until I looked at the clock and saw that it was six on the dot, which meant that it was Tommy who'd come knocking, and that was both good _and _bad. It was good, because it was Tommy, and he was a good thing all of the time, but it was also bad, because I was still in the midst of making myself as devastatingly beautiful as possible, but I couldn't make him wait outside either, could I?

"Well, cripe me backwards up a tree!" I said, as quietly as possible, so that he wouldn't hear me, while still being loud enough to add the _oomph_ necessary to illustrate my irritation. I made my way out of bedroom, hopping on one foot while I pushed into a sandal with the other one, doing very well, swimmingly, in fact, until I was a couple of steps away from the door, when I lost my balance, and went tumbling to the floor…after crashing into the door, of course.

"Lily! Are you okay? What's going on in there?"

His voice was wonderfully frantic, which had to have meant that he liked me, and meant to give me more kisses, didn't it? It was a wonderful prospect, one that I would have undoubtedly taken a great deal of pleasure in pondering, had I not been suffering from a variety of bumps and bruises and a nose that felt like someone had rammed their fist into its center.

"Answer me, dammit!" he hollered, pounding his fist against the door when I failed to reply in an amount of time that was acceptable to him. "Give me some kind of sign that you're okay in there, Lily, otherwise I'm going to kick the door down so that I can see for myself!"

It was kind of romantic, and thrilling, to imagine him using his strength to obliterate my door. I even entertained the image of him tearing into the room, half crazed with worry, only to bend down and hold me close when he discovered that I wasn't hovering on death's doorstep. Hmm…it was a nice fantasy, that was for sure, but I didn't think that the D'Angelo's would agree with me, and more likely than not they would insist that I pay for the damage, so I groaned deep in my throat and dragged my body away from the door, reaching up weakly to open it, a task that took me three tries before I managed to accomplish it.

Imagine my delight when he _did_ come tearing into the room, his chest heaving as if he'd been running, with more concern for me evident in his eyes than I would have dreamed possible, but my happiness was short-lived when he decided to convey his relief by blessing me out.

"What in the _hell_ were you doing?" he thundered, towering over me, muscles bristling indignantly, while he glared down at me with eyes that snapped and sparked green hued flashes of furious light in my direction. "You could have broken your damned neck!"

Geez, Louise, it was like I was a little kid all over again, and my Dad was yelling at my for having the nerve to slip and fall in a puddle that he'd made by tracking snow into the house, or that time that I'd cut my hand on a butcher knife that he'd dropped into the washtub full of soapy water without telling me. Of course, I couldn't really blame Tommy for falling and bashing into the front door, because he hadn't had anything to do with the reason that I flopped it, but that didn't mean that I couldn't take offense at his words or his tone, did it?

"Well, pardon the hell out of me," I snapped, waiting not so patiently for him to be a gentleman and help me up off of the floor, but he didn't move, except to put his hands on his hips, a move, I might add, that was ridiculously feminine for a muscle-bound macho man to make. "The next time I lose my balance and take a tumble, I'll be sure to do so as quietly as possible, so I won't upset your _delicate sensibilities."_

His glare didn't soften, if anything it grew even sharper and I had a very brief moment of insight that told me that my smartass tendencies were just about to get me in trouble, but I chose to ignore the warning signs and plunge on ahead none the less, because it was hard for me to stop, once I was on a roll. I can't say for certain what I meant to do or say next, it probably would have been actions or words that I would have regretted, but all of that was forgotten when I saw his gaze stray southward, and then he blushed blood red and looked away from me, leaving me totally bewildered…until I felt the cool breeze as it danced across my bare thighs.

Oh, help. I ought to have covered myself immediately, that was the proper thing to do once you came to the realization that intimate parts of your body were on display, but I was just the teensiest bit in shock at that moment, so it took me awhile to do what I ought to have done right away. I finally managed to get my hands to move, to pull down the hem of my dress and cover myself. It was just a blessing that I didn't go commando beneath my clothes…though, now that I thought about it, were pink Hello Kitty panties any better?

My face felt like it was on fire, so much so that we could probably turn off all of the lights in the room and have an awkwardly romantic meal by the light shining off of my face. There was a tiny part of me that wanted to run to my room, so that I could hide under my bed until he took the hint and left me to wallow in my humiliation, but it didn't hold a candle to my need to be near him, and with that in mind I made myself laugh, though, in hindsight, it occurred to me that my doing so might have only made him question my mental stability even more than he already did.

"Well, I've shown you mine, now it's time for you to show me yours," I said, trying for another laugh and failing miserably. "I'm thinking that you're rocking some SpongeBob undies, but I'd also like to add Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles to the list of possibilities as well, if that's okay with you."

Hmm…it wasn't the smoothest thing that I could have said, but given my scrambled brain and fried nerves I felt like it was pretty damned good. It had to have been alright with him as well, judging by the grin that he gave me as he bent over to help me back onto my feet, but he certainly didn't help matters where my scattered thoughts and feelings were concerned by brushing his hand against my backside, like he was cleaning it off for me. I can't even begin to put into words what I was experiencing at that moment, but suffice it to say that my fanny was going to be tingling for the rest of the night.

"Well, if I wanted to make you blush even brighter, I'd lie and say that I wasn't wearing any at all," he said, bringing to mind images that had me heating up in ways that had nothing whatsoever to do with a blush, though it was more likely than not that I was turning a deeper shade of red none the less. "But the truth of the matter is that I'm flying Batman's colors loud and proud, because he's kind of a hero of mine…but you've got to promise that you won't tell anyone about that, alright?"

It was on the tip of my tongue to ask him where the bat on his Batman underwear was resting, let me assure you that it took a great deal of restraint on my part to stop myself from asking him about that, but then he moved closer to me and put his hand on my face, and stroked the calloused pad of his thumb over my bottom lip, and I forgot what I was going to say, what I was going to do…I pretty much forgot about anything and everything that wasn't wrapped up in the two of us, so much so that we may as well have been the only people in existence.

"I'm sorry that I yelled at you, Lily," he whispered, moving his hand to the back of my neck, pulling me closer, so that he could put his lips, very softly, where his thumb had just been. "I was scared that you'd hurt yourself, and I let my fear get the best of me."

I never had been able to understand why someone would get angry at another person because they'd been hurt, and I probably never would be able to comprehend that sort of thinking, but I wasn't inclined to care too much at that moment, because he kissed me again, just as softly and sweetly as the first kiss had been, and I was too busy restraining myself from climbing him like a tree to give my attention to anything else.

"That's alright, my Sweet Baboo," I said dreamily, my head falling back, as my eyes fluttered closed. "I could never stay mad at you, it's just not possible, it's….."

Oh. Lord. I hadn't just said that out loud…had I?

Tommy's POV

The bouquet of roses and Peruvian lilies that I'd brought for her had held up very well, in spite of the fact that I'd tossed them down onto the ground in my haste to reach her when I was certain that her life was in imminent danger. She'd carefully arranged them in a crystal vase and placed it in the center of the table, to brighten things up, she'd said, while she opened the bottle of pinot grigio that I'd picked up to accompany the meal that she'd made for me. The bottle had received its fair share of dents and dings, but it had survived as well, and paired nicely with the baked chicken and rice that she served us. It was simple and hearty food, but it was heavenly as well, and I made a pig of myself, a sin that I definitely regretted when she brought out dessert.

Of course, I didn't regret the fact that I'd scarfed down seconds on everything that she'd made because it was piggish to do so; I regretted it because my stomach felt like it might burst at any second, and that could potentially put the kibosh on me enjoying dessert to its full potential. I didn't want Lily to think that I was disappointed with any part of the meal, firstly, because the food was divine, and secondly, because she still hadn't lost the blush that she'd worn since she slipped with that 'Sweet Baboo' reference. The red had faded, and it was now a pretty shade of pink, just like the dress that she was wearing, and the sandals…and the panties with a white kitty cat's head splashed here and there and everywhere.

Aw, hell. Why did I have to start thinking about her panties? Didn't I have enough to obsess on at the moment, wasn't there enough on my mind without picturing her lying on the floor, with the hem of her dress up around her waist, giving me a clear view of her undies, and of her bare thighs, and of her panties, and of the tiny sliver of naked tummy that I could see above the waistband, and of those tiny pink…..

This was perfect, just frickin' great. Now _I_ was blushing, and moving around in my seat like I had ants in my pants, which, I suppose, I did. It was a sight that shouldn't have had this kind of effect on me, after all, I had already seen her in a bikini, and that showed more than what I'd seen of her lying on the floor, but for some reason she'd been so sexy to me, and I wondered whether it was the sight of her panties that had really turned me on, or if it had been that, paired with the proof of her fiery temper coming to life, that had gotten me all worked up.

"Are you ready to taste something sweet?"

I couldn't say for sure whether she meant her words to have a double meaning or not, but they certainly got me thinking of things that had nothing at all to do with whatever culinary masterpiece she'd concocted in that tiny ceramic dish that she had placed in front of me. I'd already had a couple of tastes of something very sweet, but that didn't mean that I wouldn't appreciate the chance to kiss her again, maybe, if I was feeling especially daring, I might throw in a little nibble as well.

"I'm always ready for that," I said, deliberately lowering my voice, with the intent of sounding as sexy as I could, just to see how she would react. "You know that I've got one hell of a sweet tooth, don't you, Lily?"

In my mind I sounded kind of goofy, alright, I sounded _very_ goofy, but the look on her face told me that she liked what I had said, and the way that I'd said it as well. The blush on her face, which had just started to fade away altogether, returned in a flash, and she giggled and stammered and shifted back and forth from one foot to the other…hmm, maybe I ought to do that sort of thing more often, if her response was one that I could expect more of in the future.

"Yes, I suppose that I do," she answered, giggling as she spoke and nearly toppling to the floor as she took a seat beside me. I grabbed hold of her before she could fall, and kissed her before she could apologize, for the umpteenth time that night, for being such a klutz. "Mmm…that was yummier than anything that I could have cooked up. What do you say that we forget the crème brûlée and concentrate on kissing instead?"

She hadn't meant to reveal so much, I could see her mental "D'oh!" moments after the words had left her mouth, but I didn't laugh at her. I'll be perfectly honest and admit that I wanted to chuckle, as a matter of fact I just about choked on one as I stifled it, but I was proud of myself for not giving in to the urge. She had already endured so much embarrassment tonight, and the evening was still young, and I would much rather have her blushing for other reasons, if you catch my drift.

I smiled at her and kissed her again, and then I grabbed hold of one of the spoons that she had laid on the table. I gently broke through the browned shell of the dessert that I had heard of, but had never tasted, and scooped up a small amount of what looked to be custard of some type. I gave her a little bite and then took the rest for myself, closing my eyes and nearly groaning aloud as the vanilla sweetness made itself known all throughout my mouth.

"That's perfection, Lily," I said, and then, moments later, she popped another spoonful into my mouth. I savored it, amazed that my stomach, which had seemed unbearably full just moments before, welcomed the spoonful of goodness without a single word of protest. "But now it's your turn, isn't it?"

I scooped up some of the custard and offered it to her, and she opened her mouth, just like a baby bird, allowing me to slide it inside. She gave me plenty of room to slide it all in at once, without any problem at all, but I smeared the tiniest bit on her bottom lip anyway. She started to reach for her napkin, to wipe away the mess that I'd made, but I reached out and stopped her before she could throw me off of the path that I'd laid out for myself.

"Why can't we concentrate on both?" I asked softly, leaning forward in my chair, to run the tip of my tongue over the bit of crème brûlée that I'd left on her lip, careful to keep my touch very light. "Why do we have to choose one over the other?"

She shivered and seemed to shimmy from the top of her head to her toes. "That's just what I wanted," she said, reaching out a finger and dipping it into the custard, pulling out a smear that she placed on her top lip. "I just didn't want you to think that I was being pushy, but now that we've got that out of the way, why don't you show me what you can do to this top lip?"

A Disclaimer & A Word Of Thanks: I cannot claim ownership of the term of endearment "my Sweet Baboo", no matter how much I might like to. Charles M. Schultz is the one who came up with that bit of lovey-dovey, providing Sally with her nickname for Linus. I would also like to offer a word of thanks, and a lifetime worth of hugs and smoochies, to my hubby for suggesting that it would be just like Lily to call Tommy her "Sweet Baboo".


	9. Chapter Nine

Chapter Nine

Tommy's POV

I'd always felt right at home in a library, I'd always taken solace in the quiet, peaceful environment, surrounded by books which were just waiting to be picked up and read. I suppose that it might have come as a big surprise to most people, to know that someone like me liked to read, but then I could imagine that there was a lot about me that would have caught people off-guard. There were few people who knew the real me, well, to be perfectly honest, there was no one, now that Manny was gone, though there was one person who was well on her way to knowing the real me, and she was who had drawn me to the library today.

I knew that she hadn't noticed me as I followed her from one row of books to the other, and that was a good thing, because I didn't want to give her the impression that I was a stalker. I was used to seeing librarians who were middle-aged women, a few grandmotherly types as well, along with the occasional guy with the glasses, perfectly parted hair and bowtie, but my Lily didn't fit into any of those categories, and I was very grateful for that…especially that she didn't look like any of the men I'd seen, not that a grandmother resemblance would have been any better.

I stood at the end of the aisle and peeked around the corner, taking a few moments to appreciate the sight of her profile. She was wearing a black skirt with a hem that flared out to rest right above her knee, but which was fitted from the waist to right below her butt, which meant that it clung like a second skin, and let's just say that the sight was one that a man would be happy to burn into his memory. She'd paired the skirt with a white blouse that clung to spots that were very tempting to behold as well, and finished off the look with a pair of white pumps trimmed with black and an upswept hairdo that aimed for prim and proper, but didn't quite make it. Long story short, she looked positively adorable and I found myself plotting and planning on how I could spend my day in the library, without being seen, because I knew that I could watch her for hours and never get tired of the sight of her.

It was a little alarming for me to realize that I was as taken with her as I was. I'd been on my own for so long that the thought of anyone else taking up a permanent residence in my life made me panic just a little bit, though, on the other hand, it was nice to have her there, it was a good feeling, to know that there was someone who cared about me. I'd never given much thought to my status as a bachelor, except for those moments when it dawned on me how long it had been since I'd had sex, and then I got a little sad, but now I realized that I didn't want to be amongst those ranks any longer. I wanted a woman in my life, more specifically, I wanted Lily, and not just for sex either…though that wouldn't be such a bad thing to have, would it?

She finished shelving the last of the books and almost caught me staring at her, but I ducked out of the way just in the nick of time. I hid out of sight, taking cover behind a book, until she rolled her cart past the spot where I was standing, and then I quickly re-shelved the book and followed her to the front of the library…where a group of ankle biters had assembled, kids who started hooting and cheering once they caught sight of Lily.

I hadn't noticed the horde to begin with, because I'd been too caught up in the back-and-forth sashay of Lily's backside as she made her way to the front, wondering what color panties she was wearing beneath her skirt. I thought that they might have been either black or white, if she always color coordinated her undies with what she was wearing on the outside, but I couldn't make up my mind if these were covered in cartoon characters or if they were plain, and if they were plain, were they cotton or satin, bikini or thong….?

Yeah, I was just a tad bit distracted, with eyes that were goggling, a mouth that was watering, and a brain filled with thoughts that were inappropriate, to say the least, so it wasn't a big surprise that I missed the presence of the tiny terrors, though I would have thought that the noise would have been enough to clue me in. I guess that was one of the biggest dangers of being caught up in another person, wasn't it? When your mind was on your surroundings, you were less likely to be caught unaware. That being said, it wasn't nearly as fun all by your lonesome, either, so I guess it wasn't a bad trade after all, was it?

That was a great theory…until you stepped out into traffic, because you weren't paying attention, or drifted off into a daydream in your car while waiting for the light to turn green, and you didn't see it when it did, and the drivers behind you decided to form a mob when you made them miss their chance to go. None of these things had happened to me yet, but there was always the chance that they would, and an even better chance that I might be attacked by a crowd of jabbering, hyperactive children, all of who looked to be in possession of sticky hands and snotty noses.

Fortunately for me, and unfortunately as well, Lily was the one that they were advancing on, with their dirty hands and runny noses, and high-pitched voices that seemed to be drilling steadily into my eardrums. The room seemed to be filled from the floor to the ceiling with them, but in reality there couldn't have been more than fifteen, at the most, though, in my eyes at least, that was similar to being confronted by fifteen ravenous lions, and I wondered how on earth Lily was going to manage to keep them from going for her throat.

"Good afternoon everybody!" she said happily, leading the masses over to a corner of the children's part of the library, where a rocking chair and a big, plush looking rug were waiting. "Let's all take the noise level down a notch or two and find a seat. We can't read the story until you're calm and quiet, and what fun would there be in story time, if you didn't get to hear a story?"

I thought that she might have been hoping for too much when she expected them all to take a seat and shut their mouths, but apparently I was the one who was mistaken, because every single kid did exactly as she asked. They dropped down onto the rug and made a half-assed semicircle, and she took a seat in the rocking chair and pulled a book out of the pocket on the side and held it in her lap.

It seemed to me that she was all set to read, at least, she gave every indication that she was ready to begin, and I leaned against a fake tree in the center of the kid's section, making myself as comfortable as I could while I listened to her voice, but then something, or, some_one_ in the audience caught her attention, and not in a good way either, if the frown on her face was any indication.

"Timothy, I really wish that you would do your best to resist the urge to pick your nose and rub what you find in Aubrey's hair," she said in a voice that was filled with exasperation, though I was pretty sure that I heard the tiniest hint of humor hiding beneath the irritation. "I've told you why you shouldn't do this and your mother has told you as well, and if you can't stop this behavior you'll have to stop coming to story time. You don't want that, do you?"

The kid that she was talking to had carrot colored hair and I was willing to bet he had a face full of freckles as well. The little girl who he chose to decorate with his nostril nuggets had long blonde hair that flowed down her back and I knew that he did what he did because he liked her and didn't realize that his actions would be taken as gross and offensive, as opposed to how he meant them to be perceived. It was a good thing that men outgrew that kind of thing as they matured…well, most of them, at least. I couldn't imagine myself doing something so disgusting to show Lily that I liked her, and, given the way she was looking at Timothy, chances were better than not that she would wallop me if I did anything that was even half as bad.

"No, ma'am, Miss Lily," the boy whispered, and then, without being told, he turned to the little blonde who was seated beside him. "I'm sorry, Aubrey," he said, and reached into his bag to pull out a little green package. "My mom uses these booger wipes to clean my little brother's nose. Do you want me to use them to clean your hair?"

I couldn't hear what the girl said, but she must have given her permission because Timothy smiled, and then quickly went to work cleaning his mess out of her hair. I saw Lily take a deep breath, one that was a sigh of relief, I'd imagine, then she raised the book off of her lap and showed it to the children, and it was a sight that brought a chorus of _yays_, along with more than one _boo_.

"Chicka Chicka Boom Boom is a baby book," a little boy sitting off to the right said in protest, drawing applause from his fellow troublemakers. "Do we look like babies to you, Miss Lily?"

"We want the farting dog story!" one of the others boys piped up, a request that made the entire group dissolve into laughter, followed by a chant of "Farting dog…farting dog…farting dog!"

I didn't know what in the hell a 'chicka chicka boom boom' was, and I couldn't wrap my head around the notion that anyone would write a book about dogs and their farts for little kids, but Lily seemed to be taking everything in stride, so she must have known what was what. She let them carryon for a couple of minutes without saying a word, and then she interrupted them with an announcement that shut them up in an instant.

"I know that you are not babies, and I don't think that this book is one that only babies would enjoy. I will not be reading about Walter or his farting dog for a good long while, if ever, until all of you learn to control your tendencies to do things that are completely inappropriate. It's bad enough to wipe boogers in a person's hair, or to burp in someone's face, I can only imagine what you might do if you think that you're free to let loose with a fart whenever you feel the urge. That being said, you are perfectly free to spend the hour browsing for your own book, until it's time for you to go home, but those who do so will also be giving up their chance for a cookie and some milk."

Oh, man…she'd brought cookies for the little monsters, and I wasn't going to get any of them. I was going to be forced to sit back and stay quiet while I watched them devour cookies that ought to have been mine. It wasn't fair, it just wasn't fair at all, and I found myself thinking that it wouldn't be such a bad thing to sneak up to one of the kiddos when Lily wasn't looking and bribe them for their cookie, and if that didn't work, I could always snatch one, couldn't I?

Aw, hell…I knew that I couldn't do that, not without the rug rat caterwauling and drawing her attention. That being said, it didn't mean that I wasn't seriously considering doing just that, especially when she told the group that she'd brought along snickerdoodles and Rice Krispies treats. That was the sort of lure that would make a man consider all sorts of things that might be considered mean and wicked, and it wasn't easy for me to keep my bad intentions at bay, not easy at all.

Somehow I managed to keep my mind occupied with the story once she started reading it, and I was just starting to really enjoy the rhyming, so I didn't pay too much attention to the fact that one of the little girls kept turning around and looking at me. I didn't pay her any mind at all, not until she raised her hand and caught Lily's attention, that is.

"Miss Lily, Miss Lily, there's a man standing over there by the tree, and he's been watching us for hours. Do you think that he's trying to steal all of the books without you seeing, or is he going to rob the cookies and milk instead?"

Hmm…she was a pretty insightful kid, wasn't she? Of course, she was also a pain in my butt, one who had Lily looking up at me, with eyes that grew wider and wider, until she smiled and gestured at the floor, right beside her chair.

"Don't worry, Natalie, he's not here to steal anything. This is my good friend, Tommy, and he's here to help me with the story, that's all."

Man, this just kept getting better and better, didn't it? I could feel my face burning as I made my way to Lily's side and took a seat by her feet…a spot which afforded me a nice, up-close look at her legs, I might add. A couple of the kids looked at me with expressions that suggested that they didn't really buy Lily's story, but they didn't voice their doubts aloud, and I was permitted to help with the story. I thought that I was doing pretty well, and things were going nice and smooth, and then the little girl who'd ratted me out raised her hand again.

"You said that he was your friend, Miss Lily…does that mean he's your _boy_friend?"

All of the kids started to giggle and to whisper amongst themselves and I turned to look at Lily with my eyebrow raised, taking more pleasure than I ought to have in the way that she blushed and stammered, before she whispered a single word, _yes_. I took more pleasure in hearing that than I ought to have as well, but what else could I be expected to do? I officially had a girlfriend and there was the promise of milk and cookies once the story was finished, who could ask for anything more than that?

Lily's POV

I had started the evening with every intention of speaking to him about his father's upcoming birthday party, but I just couldn't find a way to bring it up that wouldn't make him mad. I knew that he would ask me how I knew about it, and then I would have to admit that I'd been talking to his sister-in-law for the past couple of days on the phone, and I had a pretty good idea that he wouldn't be happy at all when he found out about that.

I didn't know the full story about his childhood, but I did know that some bad things had happened, the sort of things that could change a person so completely that they could never go back to the way that they'd been before. It was something else that I felt I should discuss with him, but how did you go about bringing a subject like that up? I wasn't eager to make him mad at me, or sad and withdrawn, especially not now, when we were laying on a blanket in a secluded part of the park, engaging in a night filled with less than mediocre music provided by those whose sole mission in life seemed to be to butcher classical masterpieces, and smooching that made me forget everything else that wasn't wrapped up in my sweet Baboo.

I think that we all know that this wasn't the first time that he'd kissed me, but this _was_ the first time that he'd done so while we were laying outside, beneath the stars, with the first signs of fall creeping into the air, making me glad that he was so warm and toasty…okay, okay…that wasn't the only reason that I was glad to have him laying halfway on, and halfway off of me, but it did give me a reason for enjoying it as much as I did, aside from the fact that I was a wanton hussy, didn't it?

He had his hand resting on the side of my face, holding me in place while he pressed those gorgeous lips of his to mine over and over again, but then he moved it down to my waist, then a little further, so that it was resting on my thigh, and that made me wish that I was wearing a skirt, which was just further proof that I was a hussy. His lips never left mine while he was moving his hand, not even when I gasped at the feel of his palm caressing me through my jeans, though he did use that gasp to his advantage, to do something that he'd never done before that moment, which was to part my lips with the tip of his tongue and kiss me in a way that had me seeing starbursts behind my eyelids.

I'd been perfectly content before that moment to rest my hands on his shoulders in a way that was completely proper and not hussy-like at all, but when I felt his tongue making its way into my mouth I slid them up around his neck, and then when I felt its silken softness circling my mouth I slid my fingers into his hair and twined the strands 'round and 'round, all while I did my best, and failed miserably, to keep myself from squirming on the blanket, like I had ants in my pants, which was a pretty good euphemism for what I was feeling at that moment, if I do say so myself.

It had been a long time since I'd been kissed in that way, to be perfectly honest, I'd never been all that fond of someone putting their tongue in my mouth, but I liked Tommy kissing me that way. I let him be the dominant one for a few moments, and simply enjoyed the sensation, and then it dawned on me that he might have liked to feel me meeting his tongue, as opposed to simply allowing it entrance into my mouth, so I decided to experiment. I touched the tip of his tongue with my own, and then we did a little dance, a mambo of sorts, before I finally worked my way into sucking his bottom lip into my mouth and the change in him was instantaneous.

I knew that he'd already been excited by what we were doing, after all, his body was partially pressed up against mine and there was no ignoring what I was feeling, but suddenly he gasped and moaned and grasped me tightly against his body. Hmm…this was handy information to have, I could definitely use it in the future, when I wanted to make him crazy and get beneath his skin. These were the gleeful thoughts that flooded me moments after my instant of serendipity, but I only had a tiny taste of triumph, and then he showed me why he'd gasped and moaned by turning the tables and drawing my bottom lip into his mouth and sucking on it, and then, oh, help, _nibbling_ on it, until I was whimpering and squirming in a way that said that all of the ants in my pants had given birth to triplets, and everyone was dancing across my backside.

"Hmm…feels good, doesn't it, baby?" he asked quietly, seductively, as if I needed any further provocation toward making a complete spectacle of myself.

"It certainly does, my sweet and sexy Baboo," I said dreamily, ignoring his answering chuckle as I pulled his head down and put his lips back to work. There was something to be said for a night in the park that was spent getting cozy with a good-looking man who obviously thought that I was as cute as a button…speaking of words that start with _butt, _I wonder what he'd do if I was to reach down and pinch him on his butt?

I suppose that there was only one way to find out, wasn't there?


	10. Chapter Ten

Chapter Ten

Lily's POV

I usually hated the days at work when I was expected to fill out the overdue notices, because it was a tedious chore, to sit still at my desk, penning addresses on the envelopes, licking and sealing them, and affixing a stamp on them. I usually ended the day with a headache, uncomfortably tight muscles in my neck and shoulders, not to mention my numb tongue that was coated with the taste of envelope glue and stamps, but all of that was worth it today, because spending my day at my desk meant that I hadn't been walking around all day, which meant that my feet hadn't sweated, and that was good, because why on earth would Tommy be interested in massaging my feet if they were sweaty and stinky?

Truth be told, I never would have thought that he would be interested in massaging my feet, period, but I was happy that he'd decided to prove me wrong. He'd been waiting for me by my door, and had greeted me with a kiss that made me go still in his arms, barely breathing, until a warmth seeped into me through his lips that flowed through my veins from the top of my head to the tips of my toes, which curled, then relaxed, then curled again, over and over, until I was seeing stars and hearing little birdies chirping happily in my ears.

I suppose that there were those who would say that I was exaggerating Tommy's skills as a kisser, there were probably those who would say that I was prone to hyperbole, and to them I suggest that they try kissing the man just one time, and then tell me that I'm embellishing the experience…though they should also be aware that I am a very jealous woman, and touching my sweet Baboo's lips with their own could be a very dangerous endeavor.

Somehow he managed to get my keys away from me and he unlocked the door and led me inside, still kissing me the whole while, and over to my couch. That gave me the impression that he meant for us to engage in a steamy little makeout session on my sofa, which would have been just fine with me, more than fine, as a matter of fact, but all of those hopes were dashed when he helped me lay down on the cushions, then sat down on the end, that is, they were, until he pulled my feet onto his lap and slowly pulled off my shoes.

There was a small amount of time, a millisecond, I suppose, where I worried that my feet might have been stinky and/or sweaty, but all of that was forgotten when he took one of my stocking covered feet into his hands and started to rub the sole with his very strong and very masculine thumbs. I also had a brief moment where I was given the chance to admire how small my foot looked in his hand, it could have even been called dainty, and that was a descriptive that I had never used for any part of my body.

Neither of us had said a word yet, and while that wasn't odd for him, it was downright miraculous for me to have remained silent as long as I had…though, now that I thought about it, I realized that I hadn't really been silent, had I? Granted that I hadn't actually _said_ a word, but I had let loose with plenty of sighs, and even a whimper or two, and that meant that I hadn't been _silent_, had I? It would've been nice, I wouldn't have complained, if he'd decided to let loose with sighs and whimpers of his own, but he hadn't, and then it dawned on me that I'd been too caught up in the kissing to do that little trick of sucking on his bottom lip. No wonder he hadn't made a sound…but I could always do it later on, couldn't I?

"How was work today?" he asked softly, and I was glad that he'd been the one to break the silence, as opposed to making me do it, just because I was the one who was always chattering away like a magpie. "Did you break down and read the story about the farting dog, or is that one that you'll never be reading to them?"

I giggled a little at the way that he said 'farting dog'. It was something that shouldn't have been all _that_ funny, but I enjoyed it anyway, as a much as any grown woman who possessed the sense of humor that was generally reserved for adolescent boys would love to hear the word _fart_ said aloud.

"I don't know how long I'll avoid that story, but I wouldn't have been reading it today anyway, because we won't be having story time again until Friday-ay-ay….!"

I wasn't used to singing when I answered a question, truth be told, it was very embarrassing to do so, but it was kind of hard for me to avoid doing just that, because everything had been fine one minute, and then he'd done something with his thumbs, and I felt it, oddly enough, in my tummy, like he'd touched it, instead of my foot. I couldn't understand how a gentle caress to the side of my foot could be felt in my tummy, but I'd felt a quiver within it just as sure as if he'd tickled his fingertips across my skin, and I'd reacted to it honestly, in a way that had me blushing and struggling to meet his eyes.

"I guess that your day wasn't as eventful as it was last Friday then, was it?" he asked, in a tone that was soft and quiet and completely innocent, as if he had no idea at all what he'd done, and that he hadn't noticed my subsequent attempt at an operatic aria. "No boogers being spread in anyone's hair, no stalking boyfriends hanging around trying to score some milk and cookies, nothing like that, huh?"

Aw, he'd said it out loud, _boyfriend_, he'd said it, and that meant that it was true, and there wasn't anyone, anywhere, who could take that away from me. "Nope, things were very quiet and pretty boring, for the most part, except for me breaking the heel off of my shoe and falling into the toilet, that is."

I heard him snort, and then he started to chuckle, and I didn't even mind that I was the one that he was laughing at, because I loved to hear him making that sound. It was one that he didn't make all that often, but he'd gotten better at it as time went along, and I predicted that it wouldn't be long before he'd be letting loose with a chuckle on a regular basis. I just hoped that it wouldn't always be humor that was directed at me, because no one liked making a jackass out of themselves all of the time, did they?

"Poor baby," he said, which was enough to make me all fluttery, but then he raised my foot to his mouth and kissed it, then lowered it back down to his lap, and what I'd thought were flutters proved to be lightweights compared to what I was feeling at that moment. "It looks like you got the heel back on just fine, didn't you?"

I wasn't all that interested in talking about my heel, not if I could convince him to call me _baby_ again, or, better yet, to kiss my foot again, but then it dawned on me that he'd only been rubbing my foot for about five minutes, and if I distracted him, he might give it up altogether, and then I'd miss that slow, steady stroking that felt so good to me, so I decided that it was best to tell him the story. In hindsight, I might have done a better job of keeping some of the particulars to myself, had I not been so caught up in the fluttering dreaminess of being head-over-heels in a twitterpated stupor over my sweet Baboo, but as it was, I'm afraid that I just said whatever came to mind, without thinking, in advance, how it would sound to him.

"Oh, sure, superglue works wonders, even if I did almost glue the shoe to my desk while I was fixing it," I said, mindful of his answering snort and chuckle, but not bothered by them in the least. "I'm afraid that my panties were a lost cause though."

Oh, no. I hadn't meant to say that aloud, but now I had and his thumb froze in place on the bottom of my foot, which just happened to be in a spot that I felt in my legs and my hips, for some crazy reason. I would have been very happy to concentrate on that feeling for a moment or two, followed by a suggestion that he show me what other magic he was capable of, but he was too busy staring at me, and I knew that I'd succeeding in distracting him from the task at hand, which is just what I hadn't wanted to do, and now he probably wouldn't finish and it was all my fault, wasn't it?

"What happened to your panties, Lily?" he murmured, his lips twitching as he made a valiant effort not to laugh right in my face, which I appreciated. "I think that I need a few more details about that, if you wouldn't mind telling me all about it."

There was a small part of my brain that told me to stay quiet, to preserve the rest of my dignity, but the larger part said that it wouldn't hurt anything, because I'd already embarrassed myself, and that was the part that I listened to, though I can't tell you why I thought it was a good idea to do so.

"I finished my, ahem, _business_ and stood up to flush. I'd pulled up my panties with no problem at all, but when I reached down to grab my slacks I got off-balance and twisted my ankle. The heel broke off of my shoe and I fell back onto the toilet and my butt landed in the water that was still swirling 'round and 'round. Needless to say, my panties were ruined and I left them behind in the trash….."

Oh, hell. Hadn't I humiliated myself enough as it was? Why did I feel the need to make things a hundred times worse by cluing him in on the fact that I was going commando beneath the sensible trousers that I'd worn to work? Oh, well. I suppose it could have been worse, couldn't it? I could've been wearing a skirt, and if I had, that would mean that he'd be getting a bird's eye view of my…..

"What did they look like?" I heard him whisper, and turned to see that he was watching me closely, and then, wonder of wonders, he started to blush and then he looked away from me.

I never would have thought that he would be interested in my panties, I would have expected him to have a good laugh over my clumsiness instead, but the fact that he was curious sent a warm tingle coursing through me, and it was my turn to smile. I waited until he'd looked at me again, and then I began to tell him all about my undies, careful to keep my voice soft and use a tone that I thought was seductive in nature as I did so.

"It was really a shame, because they were part of a matching bra and panty set, but I wasn't about to go around toting a pair of panties that had been in the toilet," I began, pretending that I didn't notice that he was hanging on my every word. "They were white panties, the see-through kind, with pink flowers embroidered all over and tiny ruffles that ran along the holes for my legs."

I saw the look that was in his eyes and I reveled in it, because I was the one who had the upper hand, I was the one who was beguiling and alluring,_ I_ was the one who was drawing _him_ in, and I allowed myself to feel a burst of vanity, and then, just as I had before, I had my superiority snatched away from me. He was still staring at me, nothing in his expression had changed, not even a tiny bit, but all of the sudden he moved his thumbs to the hollow spots that rested right beneath my ankles and started massaging the skin there, a soft and sensual caress that caught me in places that had me blushing and squirming on the couch, and just like that, he'd reclaimed the crown for himself.

"Poor baby," he said again, pushing his thumbs harder onto those hollow spots, not enough to even come close to hurting me, but enough to make me gasp. "I guess that I'll have to buy you a new pair, won't I? But just so you know, I'll expect you to model them for me, if I do."

Tommy's POV

I wasn't a fan of soppy chick flicks where people spent the majority of their time crying, and/or doing things that would make those watching them cry their eyes out, but I could withstand the torture, I could man up and deal with it, because Lily had promised to watch _Die Hard_ with me, just as long as I watched _Titanic_ with her. It was a decision that I came to regret, because, one, she wasn't just _crying_, she was sobbing buckets of tears, and two, I found out about halfway through the Leo & Kate saga that she actually liked _Die Hard_ and thought that Bruce Willis was "kind of cute". After that, I was torn between what bothered me more, the sight and sound of her tears, or my jealousy that came out of nowhere over the fact that she thought someone who was old enough to be my dad was "kind of cute".

Somehow I survived it, and sustained only minor injuries to my shirt, due to her crying, which was starting to lessen somewhat now that the credits were rolling. I could tell that she was embarrassed that she'd made a mess and she wasted no time at all in finding a towel to clean me off, which I enjoyed thoroughly, mostly because she bent over in front of me while she was rubbing on my shirt, and I had an excellent view of what was resting beneath her t-shirt. Her bra covered her pretty well, so I couldn't see everything, but somehow that made it even sexier for me.

She'd changed her clothes before she'd cooked dinner, and I assumed that she'd out on some new panties as well, but that didn't stop me from bringing to mind the description of the ones that she'd dunked in the toilet, and it certainly didn't keep me from imagining what they must have looked like on her, especially when they were paired with the matching bra…..

"Tommy, there's something that I need to ask you," she said, pulling me out of a reverie that was quickly turning from a movie that was PG-13 in nature to something that could have been rated X, had it continued, which was why I was blushing when I turned to look at her, or, more accurately, when I jumped, because she'd startled me, then turned to look at her. "I know that it's kind of quick for me to be bringing this sort of thing up, but it's something that I need to ask anyway…I just hope that you won't be mad at me."

There wasn't a lot of blood in my brain at that moment, given the nature of my thoughts, so I knew that I would have to pay close attention to whatever it was that she asked me, because I didn't want to run the risk of agreeing to whatever it was that she wanted from me without thinking about it first. I was pretty sure that she didn't mean to propose marriage to me, or to ask me to father her baby, but that didn't mean that I ought to listen with one ear, did it?

"I won't be mad at you, baby," I assured her, loving the way that her eyes lit up whenever I called her my _baby_. "Go ahead and ask me whatever you want to."

She took a deep breath, then moved closer to me on the couch, and grabbed hold of my hand with her own. "Next weekend is my dad's sixty-seventh birthday and my Mom is throwing a party for him at their house. I was wondering if you might go with me and be my date so that they'll all have a chance to meet you and get to know the real you, if you want to, that is."

The part about getting to know the 'real' me set off warning bells in my head, but how could I refuse her when she was looking at me the way that she was, and running the tips of her fingers against my palm? She didn't ask for very much, and I knew that it was important to her, so that was why I gave in so easily…though, I suppose, the lack of blood in my brain could have been partially to blame, don't you think?

"I'd be glad to go with you," I told her, and got up to change _Titanic_ for _Die Hard_, only to change my mind at the last moment, and put in _Predators_ instead. I made my way back to the couch and pulled her up against me, loving the way that she curled into me, almost as if she was melting against me, but it was a short-lived pleasure, because then she opened her mouth and said the one thing that was certain to put me in a bad mood.

"This will work out perfectly, Baboo," she said happily, running her hand down my leg and squeezing my knee. "You can go with me to my Dad's party, and I'll go with you to yours. Don't you think that will be a lot of….?"

"Who told you about that my Pop was going to be having a party?" I asked, turning to look at her as meanly as I dared, while doing my best to not be as harsh as I wanted to be. "How do you know about all of that?"

She looked away from me, training her eyes on the floor as she answered, which made me feel like a bully. "Tess called to talk to me about the party, and we've been talking on and off for a couple of weeks. I really like her, Tommy, she seems nice, and I would like to have a chance to meet all of your family and get to know them…oh, crap…I overstepped, didn't I? I knew that I ought to have told you sooner, but I was afraid that you'd be mad at me, and now you are mad at me, and I've messed everything up, haven't I, and….."

She sounded like she was on the verge of hyperventilating, so I put my arms around her and moved her onto my lap. Yes, she had overstepped her bounds, but not by that much and I wasn't really mad at her anyway. Everything led back to my family, just like it always did, and I had a good mind to call Tess and tell her to mind her own damned business, but that could wait until later. I concentrated all of my attention on smoothing Lily's hair with my palm, and kissing her on her cheek, then, very softly, on her lips.

"Shh, baby, it's okay," I told her. "I'm not mad at you, you haven't messed anything up, and I don't want you to be upset, alright?"

She nodded, and then snuggled against me. "You'll still go with me to my dad's party?" she asked softly, turning to kiss me, which wasn't all that fair, given that she'd just asked me a question, but I figured that her doing so was acceptable, considering the fact that I'd already given my answer, and wasn't in any danger of being manipulated.

"Yes, Lily, I will."

"And maybe I can go with you to your dad's party, if you feel like it, and you're not too mad, and I don't bug you about it every single day?"

I wanted to chuckle, but I didn't. I gave her the sternest look that I could manage, and made a sound that was meant to be a growl, though it didn't quite make it. "I'll think about it, but right now I want to watch this movie, if that's alright with you."

She smiled at me, clearly not the least bit intimidated by me, which I was thankful for, then kissed me and snuggled back against my chest. "That's just fine with me, Baboo," she said happily, reaching for my hand and linking our fingers together. "By the way, I love this movie. Adrien Brody is really kind of cute, in a big nose, no behind kind of way, don't you think?"


	11. Chapter Eleven

Chapter Eleven

Tommy's POV

What could I have done wrong? I went through our most recent times together in my mind, searching for anything that I might have said, for something that I might have done that would have made her mad enough to dump me. She hadn't actually said that she was dumping me, because she hadn't communicated with me at all for the past two days, but what other excuse could there be for the way that she was acting?

I'd reluctantly given her the space that I assumed she needed for two entire days, well, that is, I'd just stuck with calling her throughout the day, but not anymore. I liked to think that I was a reasonable man, I was calm and rational and levelheaded, but damn it, if she was going to give me the brushoff, then she was going to tell me to my face. That wasn't asking for too much, was it?

I knocked on her front door, careful to keep the contact of my fist as gentle and respectful as possible, when what I really wanted to do was to pound upon it and demand that she let me in. Moments passed with no answer, which only served to make me even angrier than I already was. I knew that she was home; I knew that she hadn't left her apartment for two days, so why in hell wasn't she answering my knock on the door? Had she sneaked over to the window and peeked outside? Was she standing there, just waiting for me to leave, or had she run to hide in her bedroom instead?

Aw, hell…I was starting to sound like a crazy person, wasn't I? This was all so new for me, I wasn't used to having these sorts of feelings for another person, and I'd been an idiot and allowed them to take complete control of me. That was why I pounded my fist on the door like a deranged man, even though I knew better. That was why I called for her through the door, in a tone that was much louder than what it ought to have been, and it was something that I paid for when the door on the other side of Lily's opened up, and old Mrs. Foster tottered out onto the landing.

Dahlia Foster had to have been a hundred years old, at the very least, and she was a tiny, shriveled woman, with bright eyes that said that her mind was still sharp, no matter how worn-down her body seemed to be. She was one of those sorts that called you _honey_ and _sugar pie_, one of those who insisted on pinching your cheeks whenever she got close enough to touch you, and one who was always paying attention to the business of all of those around her, and I ought to have known to stay quiet, to keep my distress to myself, but it was too late now, wasn't it?

"Land sakes, Thomas Conlon, you're making enough racket to raise the dead from the grave!" she said, as loudly as she could manage, in that creaky voice of hers. "Why on earth are you pounding on Lily's door? Is this some modern courting technique that I'm unaware of, because if it is, I must say that I don't like it at all. Why, in my day, young men would serenade their sweethearts with a little Bing Crosby or Frankie Laine, but now they're hammering their fists against a young woman's door and bellowing at her to open up. Are you playacting as Marlon Brando, honey, because you're no Stanley, and she's no Stella and….."

"Grandma, are you flirting with Tommy again?"

I was happy to see Dahlia's granddaughter, Judy, so much so that I might have kissed her, that is, I might have, if I hadn't known that doing so would only encourage Mrs. Foster to believe that I had romantic designs on her granddaughter. Dahlia was a matchmaker through and through, it must have been a side effect of her overall nosiness, and it probably wouldn't matter to her that Judy was nearly my father's age. She would be shuffling us off together before you could say Bing Crosby and then I'd be in one hell of a mess, wouldn't I?

"Now, Judy, we both know that Mr. Conlon is a handsome young man, but I'm not inclined to _flirt_ with him, or any other man, and you know it, don't you? I'm simply attempting to educate him, so that he might know how to go about charming Miss Lewis back into his embrace, nothing more, and nothing less, and I have to say that I am both alarmed and insulted by your insinuation that I had ulterior motives, Judith Marie….."

She was on a roll by that point, ranting and raving and raising holy hell, but I found my attention diverted away from her and what she was saying by a sound that came from the other side of Lily's door. It was a giggle that I heard, I was sure of it, and that meant that she was listening to what was unfolding, she was standing by the door, just as I'd suspected she was, and now she was having a good laugh at my expense.

Had I been given a choice, I would have started banging my fists against the door again, I would have let her know that I could hear her, but my doing so would only encourage Mrs. Foster to react in a manner that might end with my arrest, so I was forced to keep my hands at my sides and curse beneath my breath instead, while I waited for Grandma Moses to finish her tirade.

Thankfully, I didn't have to wait long, because Judy took her Grandma in hand, literally, and after whispering to me that she was sorry, she led her back into the apartment, leaving me alone on the landing, to deal with Lily however I might see fit. I walked up to her door and leaned my body against it, slowly and softly thumping my fists on it, smiling when I imagined her jumping back away from the sound.

"Lily, baby, I know that you're in there, I know that you're looking and listening, I even know that you're laughing at me, and I think that you need to open this door, so that you can have a chance to laugh at me, face-to-face, doesn't that sound like fun?"

There was no answer from her, not even a squeak of alarm, and I felt another burst of temper course through me, one that encouraged me to hammer my fists against the door, like a crazy person, even though it embarrassed me to be acting the way that I was. This was why it was best for a man to stay alone, so that he wouldn't find himself enmeshed in circumstances that would have him behaving like an enraged ape, but, now that I thought about it, being alone sucked hairy, sweaty nuts, now that I knew what it felt like, to be the other half of a couple.

"Let me in, baby, please," I said, forcing my tone into one that was calm and collected, when what I wanted, more than anything, was to yell at the top of my lungs, to channel Stanley Kowalski, just as Mrs. Foster had suggested I was. "I need to see you, Lily, I need to know that you're okay."

I thought that I heard something that might have been a sniffle, though it would be impossible for me to hear something like that, wouldn't it? "I can't come to the door right now, Baboo," she called from within, making an effort, for some damned reason, to sound like she was standing at the back of the apartment, even though I knew that she was standing right beside the door. "Please go home and I'll call you, so we can talk, okay?"

Hell no, that was _not_ okay. It was bullshit, plain and simple, and I was not going to go away that easily. On the upside, she had called me _Baboo_, and she wouldn't have done that if she was breaking up with me, would she? Granted, I wasn't very experienced with relationships, I definitely wouldn't call myself an expert, but it seemed to me that terms of endearment didn't come into the picture, not when love had turned to hate. Not that Lily loved me, I wasn't saying that she did, but I knew that she did like me, or, at least, she _had_.

"Why can't you come to the door?" I asked, stubbornly refusing to be budged, not without her giving me a damned good explanation first. "What happened to you? Was it something that I did, Lily?"

I heard something that might have been a sigh, and then a whisper, which were, once more, two things that I shouldn't have been able to hear, but I would have sworn that I could hear them clearly. "No, Tommy, it wasn't you, Baboo. I just can't come to the door, okay?"

Hell, no it _wasn't_ okay. "That's not going to work, baby," I told her, curling my fingertips against the door, wishing that it was her that I was touching, that I could hold her and look into her eyes, and see something, _any_thing that would tell me that everything was going to be just fine between us. "I need more than that, I need to know why. Can't you do that for me, Lily? Can't you tell me why?"

"I can't come to the door because, hmm, well, that is, I, err, I sprained my ankle…yeah, that's right! I sprained my ankle and every step that I take is agony, so I can't make it to the door, Tommy. Please don't worry about me, please just go home, and I'll call you….."

She was a terrible actress and I might have laughed at her, had I not been as pissed as I was at that moment. "You're going to have to do better than that, Lily, because I'm not buying it. Why don't you tell me another one, hmm?"

I must have made her panic, because she didn't bother to get all huffy over my accusation that she was lying to me. I could hear her moving around, I could hear her muttering nervously beneath her breath, and then I heard her say _ah-hah_. It was a whisper, at best, but I knew what I'd heard, and it didn't do anything to help my temperament, that's for damned sure.

"I'm sorry, Tommy, but I'm coming down with the flu, so I can't let you in, because if I do, you'll get my cooties, and then you'll be the one who feels like you're about to die."

Her latest line of bull was accompanied by a hacking cough that _did_ make it sound like she was on the threshold of death, and I could only imagine how much damage she was doing to herself, just so she could lie to me. "If that's the case, then you'd better open the door, so that I can take you to the doctor. The flu's nothing to play around with, you know?"

I heard her sigh again, and then she said something that sounded like _dammit_ and then she switched gears all over again. "Ooh…I don't feel so good, Baboo," she moaned pathetically, sounding, once more, like she was dying, though now it sounded like her demise would take place in seconds, rather than hours. "I've got…hmm…really bad diarrhea, and I'm stuck in the bathroom. That's where I've been for hours and chances are good that I'll be here all day…and all night…and all day tomorrow….."

"How is it that you're in the bathroom, held prisoner by the trots, when I know, and you damn well know, that you're standing right by the door?" I interrupted, contemplating that I ought to break down the door, even though I knew that old bat Mrs. Foster would be sure to call the authorities if I did so. "Enough is enough, baby. If you don't want to see me anymore, go ahead and tell me. If you want me out of your life, just let me know. But please have the guts to tell me to my face, if that's what you really want. Don't I deserve that much, at least?"

She said something and fell back against the door, a something that sounded suspiciously like, _Way to go, you stupid dolt_, and I wondered if she was talking to me, or to herself. "I'm so sorry, Tommy," she said quietly, and I could hear the tears that were in her voice. "I just _can't_ let you in, I can't, I can't, I can't….."

"What happened, Lily?" I interrupted, before another tearful _I can't_ could make its way to my ears. "Why can't you let me in?"

I heard her sigh again, then she launched herself from an occasional sniffle to an all-out crying jag as the door swung open and I was treated to the sight of her puffy face, coated all over with pink ointment, the same ointment that was all over her arms and her hands and every part of her chest that I could see. The tears were flowing by that time, making tracks through the calamine lotion that she'd slathered on her face, and she personified the term _hot mess_.

"Because I'm so ugly," she wailed, looking and sounding downright pathetic, and I was forced to suppress a smile, and then a chuckle, so that I could step forward and gather her in my arms, holding her close, and kissing her forehead, the one spot on her face that wasn't all goopy, while she cried against my chest. "I'm ugly, and gross, and covered in poison ivy itchies and now you won't like me anymore-ore-ore….."

Aw, my poor baby girl. I hid my face against her hair so that I could smile, then decided to take a risk by bending my head so that I could kiss her on her lips, carefully avoiding the calamine, and the snot that was starting to make a trek out of her nose. I was so relieved that a run-in with poison ivy was what had caused her to alienate me, as opposed to a loss of affection, and I felt like I was floating on air. I had to make her smile again, a laugh would have been even better, but baby steps were best, don't you think?

"Oh, Smoochie, you could never look ugly to me," I assured her, trying out the nickname that I'd come up with for her, the one that I thought matched perfectly with Baboo. "It's just not possible for you to be ugly, or gross, even if a patch of poison ivy made its mark on you. I've liked you since I first met you, and I like you more and more with each day that goes by, and there's nothing that's going to change that, so I don't want to hear one more word on the subject, okay?"

I wouldn't have been surprised if she had chosen to argue with me as a response, but she didn't. She looked at me with her pretty eyes and whispered, "Who's Smoochie?" instead, and I smiled at her, then kissed her again, a slow, warm kiss that didn't get too up close and personal, but which let her know that I had every intention of doing just that later on, once her tears were dry and she was calm again.

"That's you, of course," I said, placing my hands on her face, completely ignoring the sticky calamine lotion that rubbed off on my palms. "You're my Smoochie, and there's nothing that you can do about that now, it's too late for you to change my mind, because I'm here to stay, no matter how hard you might try to get rid of me."

There it was, there was that smile, and her eyes were shining, hell, they were _dancing_, and I had a pretty good idea that she was never going to try to keep me out again, which was a good thing, because like I had said, I was there to stay.

Lily's POV

My body was itchy all over, no, no, that was wrong. My _face_ was itchy, and my _arms _were itchy, and the top of my _chest_ was itchy, but it may as well have been my entire body, because I was squirming all over the couch like I had a serious case of ants in my pants, to go along with the nasty rash that had called for calamine lotion and a half-assed attempt to hide myself from the world, or, more specifically, from Tommy.

A little brat named Jamie Brenner was to blame for my predicament, because he thought that it was good fun, a rollicking riot, as a matter of fact, to smack the Reading Lady in the face with poison ivy while we enjoyed our hiking filed trip. I've never been one to advocate beating children in any way, but I knew that I could be persuaded to switch sides where that little monster was concerned. My only consolation came from the fact that he'd grabbed the poisonous plant with his bare hands, and his card at the library said that he was allergic to poison ivy, and the thought of his hands, covered in itchiness and calamine, was enough to bring a big smile to my face and warm the deep recesses of my heart.

Poor Tommy…I don't know why I'd insisted on acting so silly, which had made it necessary that he come into contact with Mrs. Foster, the busybody next door, but he was a forgiving man, thank God, and had settled me in to rest on the couch before he made his way into the kitchen, putting the contents of my cupboards, along with my pots and pans, to good use and had made supper for both of us, homemade spaghetti and meatballs that smelled positively divine. I realized that he'd been holding out on me all this time, pretending to be yet another helpless bachelor who couldn't manage to cook a decent dish, not even if his life depended on it, who was regularly and painfully poisoning himself, when it was obvious, deliciously so, that he was a culinary connoisseur at heart.

I might have been tempted to be angry with him, I might have even elected to pout a little, but he had already been through so much, and he was so cute, and I'd been mean to him, and he was gorgeous, and I'd made him suffer, and he was so beautiful, so I decided to give him a break, out of the goodness of my heart…well, that and the fact that his offering of spaghetti and meatballs smelled absolutely heavenly…and he was so very, very pretty.

He brought a chair over to sit beside the couch and started to wrap some of the noodles around a fork, to feed me, which I absolutely loved, but then he stopped and looked at me, and I saw that there was hurt in his eyes, and I felt like the lowest of the low, because there was no doubt in my mind that I was the one who had put the pain in his eyes.

"Don't ever do that to me again, Lily," he said, well, _growled_, then brought the fork to my mouth, raising an eyebrow, and almost, but not quite smiling, when I took it in with a lip-smacking slurp. "I thought that I had done something awful, I thought that you didn't want me anymore, I thought that you….."

I took a moment to revel in the tomato and basil and garlic, along with the oregano and the parsley, stifling a moan of genuine pleasure, and then I interrupted him. "Oh, Baboo, I'm so sorry," I said, grateful for the fact that I'd remembered to chew and swallow before I spoke to him, because there was really no need for me to add disgust to his already hurt feelings, was there? "It was all me, I felt so revolting and I was afraid that you wouldn't like me anymore, that _you_ wouldn't want _me_, that….."

"Do you really think that I'm that shallow?" he asked, and I saw that I'd hurt him even more, and I cursed myself, not for the first time that day, for being a fool. "What have I ever said, or done, that would make you think that?"

"Of course I don't think that, Tommy," I said, hastening to explain myself, before any more damage could be done. "Like I said, it was all my fault, not yours, and I'm so sorry, Baboo, and I will never, ever do that again, I promise…now…can I have some more sketti, pretty please?"

He started to wind some more of the pasta around the fork, then it must have dawned on him that he wasn't quite through with letting me know how wrong I was, because he stopped, and looked at me, with a frown on his face that said that my little, albeit, heartfelt apology, hadn't worked to smooth his ruffled feathers, not completely, at least.

"And that's it, you said 'pretty please' and I'm supposed to just give in to you, because you're so cute, is that it, Lily?"

Hmm…time to turn on the charm. "Well, that, and because your sketti is delicious and you're so sweet, plus, the baby, that's me, is so very sorry, and so very sad, and so very hungry. Your Smoochie is hungry and wants some sketti, and she wants her Baboo to feed to her, pretty, pretty please, with sugar on top, and turtle brownies, and snickerdoodles and….."

"And 'the baby', that being 'Smoochie' that being _you_ is going down the right path for a smack on her sweet little butt," he interrupted, offering me the next bite, which I accepted with a smile…until it dawned on me what he'd said, and then I _really _started to smile.

"Ooh, Baboo…do you promise?" I asked, moving toward the edge of the couch, almost shaking with the anticipation that was rocketing through me. "Will you really spank me, pretty please? I think that I need a spanking, I've been such a naughty girl, it's really for my own good, isn't it? Especially if you bend me over your knee and….."

He was quiet all of the time, that was nothing new, but for the life of me, I just couldn't remember another time when he had looked so shocked. Oh well, maybe it was best not to push him too far, too fast. After all, baby steps were best in these circumstances, weren't they?


	12. Chapter Twelve

Chapter Twelve

Lily's POV

This was going to be a disaster, I could see that just as clear as day, but it was too damned late for us to make a retreat, now that we'd been spotted. Dear God above, what had I been thinking? How could I possibly have thought, for even one, brainless moment, that my family could pretend to be normal, that they could welcome Tommy into their midst, and be nice, possibly even friendly, just because they knew that it was important to me that they do so? Was I really asking for that much, was it really too much to hope for?

Of course it was.

My mom looked at me and Tommy, and then she looked at my dad. Then my brothers did the same, then my sisters, followed by my sisters-in-law, my brothers-in-law, my nephews and my nieces, one by one, until they were all watching my dad to see what he would do. That was how the first couple of minutes inside my parents' home went, with no one speaking, but everyone staring, and needless to say, it was awkward as hell. The only thing that would have made it worse would be arterial blood spray…and there were a couple of people on the fringes of the crowd that I would have happily volunteered for that bloodshed.

Dad was looking at us, and he was giving Tommy his very best _Lewis Glower_, the look that had worked wonders at keeping his kids, and his Marines, shipshape. Granted, it was something that had always worked better on my brothers and my sisters than it had on me, so it was kind of funny, ironic, even, that I was the only one of his children that had inherited that ability from him, and you can bet your ass that I was giving it back to him as good as I, that is, that _Tommy_ was getting it, but it had little effect on him, none whatsoever, that I could see.

Standing behind Dad were the ones who I'd happily nominate to shed blood, the banes of my existence, my nemesis', Cadence Alexander, the blonde brainless wonder, was standing on the right and Sean Montgomery, the spineless little monkey, was on the left. Geez, why didn't Mom and Dad invite Donnie Hale while they were at it, then I could experience the _trifecta_ of people who'd made my life a living hell?

"Everyone, this is Tommy Conlon," I said, slipping my hand into my Baboo's and giving it a squeeze. "Tommy, this is my dad, Lee and my mom, Alice. The guy standing beside Dad is my oldest brother, Joshua and his wife, Erin, and their boys, Christopher, Tanner and Brandon. Behind them is my other brother, Michael and his wife, Allison, and their kiddos, Molly and Claire. Over here by Mom is my oldest sister, Susan, and her husband, Nathan, and their rugrats, Logan, Ashley and Olivia. And last, but certainly not least, is my other sister, Esther, her husband, John, and their kidlets, Natalie, David, Isaac, and Mariah...and a par-tridge in a pear tree!"

Hmm…it seemed that my attempt at levity was not appreciated by the sticks in the mud that made up my family, nor, it would seem, was it something that the extended family enjoyed, or the friends of the family either, though Tommy, God bless him, chuckled, then cleared his throat, and grew very serious again when everyone turned their attention, and their censure, in his direction once more.

"Happy birthday, sir," he said politely, offering his gift, and mine as well, with one hand, while he offered the other in a handshake. "It's nice to meet you, Major Lewis, and you, Mrs. Lewis, and the rest of your family as well. It must be a lot of fun, to get together like this, when there are so many of you to share stories and talk about the good old days, am I right?"

He was trying so hard, putting himself above and beyond the point where he was comfortable, and that ought to have showed to them, and they ought to have made an effort to make him feel welcome, but their response was half-assed, at best. For one awful moment I thought that Dad meant to ignore his hand, and that would have been just what I needed to launch into an attack, but he took it at the last moment and gripped it, very tight, and pumped it up and down, then released his hold, like he thought Tommy was crawling with cooties or something.

"Thank you, _Mr_. Conlon," Dad said shortly, and everyone took that as a sign that it was acceptable for them to offer their own greetings, and they did so. Mom was much nicer than Dad had been, and so were my sisters, both those by blood and the in-laws, though all of my brothers' attempts at welcoming Tommy left a lot to be desired, and I was tempted to tell them _exactly_ what I thought of them, and of Dad's emphasis on _Mister_, but I kept my mouth shut. I was determined to keep the peace, no matter how hard it was to keep my thoughts to myself, but in the end I just couldn't.

* * *

"Oh, Tommy, your muscles are so big, so bulging, can I touch them, huh? Would it be alright with you if I touched them, hmm, _Tommy_?"

My God, she was absolutely shameless, not that I was all that surprised, given that she'd started chasing after men just as soon as she could walk, the bleached blonde tramp. Poor Tommy, he looked like he wanted to bolt, and that made me proud, because he wasn't sniffing after Cadence like every other male who came into contact with her skank-e-mones, but pride wasn't enough to cool my temper, and I knew that I wouldn't be sated until I'd snatched each and every platinum hair from her head.

"Mmm…Lily Lewis," a nauseating voice breathed in my ear, and I do mean that literally, because I could feel his breath, hot and moist, on my ear, and worse than that was the fact that I could smell it, which was why I knew that his mouthwash had went the way of the dodo a long time ago. "It's been so long since I've seen you, but here you are, just as…mmm…_sump_tuous as ever."

Gross, ugh, gag, vomit rising to the back of my throat. Was there ever a moment that Sean _wasn't_ creepy? Did he go home at night and peel off the slime and the ooze, or was he just a sleaze 24/7? I don't know why he'd ever got the idea in his tiny, itty-bitty reptilian mind that he and I were made for one another, but I did know that I'd done things that I was ashamed of to keep him away from me, namely, I had done Donnie Hale, and the ick factor from that experience _still_ hadn't gone away, not even after all these years.

"So, what are you doing tonight, Tommy?" Cadence asked, in that breathy, baby doll voice that made me want to punch her, hard, right in the kisser. I wonder how easily she could do that whole "duck face" look with a broken mouth? "I'm free, if you need someone, oops, I mean, some_thing_ to do."

Oh, hell no, she did _not_ just say that…wait, yeah, she _did_ say that, and even more revolting, not to mention infuriating, was the fact that she was pressing her tits right against his arm. I guess that her nipples wanted to feel his muscles as well; I guess her boobs were slutty skanks as well, weren't they? Well, there was only one thing to be done at a time like this, given that Tommy was too much of a gentleman to bodily remove her from his person, even though the look that was on his face said that was exactly what he wanted to do, and it was up to me to come to his rescue…..

"No, don't go, Lily, stay here with me instead," Sean said, reaching out to take hold of my arm before I could move away from him. "It's obvious that your _boyfriend_ is quite content to be with Cadence, but then, what man, other than me, would choose you over her, am I right? I am the only one who wants you just the way that you are, Lily. I am the only one who truly sees all that you have to offer as a woman, I am the only one who really _appreciates_ you….."

His words died away, and then a tiny squeak escaped him when I planted my heel on his toes and pushed down with everything that I had, a squeak that grew to a thin and insignificant scream when I put every last pound into that push. I had tried to have a good time and behave myself, I'd told myself that I owed that to my family, and to Tommy, and to myself, to act the way that a normal and rational person would, but all of that good advice had gone right out of the window when I saw that no one else had any intention of behaving like a normal and rational person. I could be a bitch, if that was what they really wanted, and Sean and Cadence had just put themselves at the head of the freakin' line with who was going to get their ass chewed first.

"Listen to me, you slimy, pencil-dicked son of a bitch," I hissed, giving his foot a final grind before I moved away from him. "I never have wanted you to put your hands on me in any way, and I never _will_ want you to, so I'd advise you to keep your filthy mitts to yourself, unless you'd like me to twist off your fingers, one by one, and shove them down your scrawny throat."

I didn't bother to tell him what I thought about his _feelings_, because I was too busy stalking over to where Cadence was practically dry humping Tommy's thigh. I thought that I deserved a little recognition for the fact that I managed to restrain myself from the desire to snatch her baldheaded and beat her bloody, but it was unlikely that anyone was going to sing my praises, given the looks on the faces of my family as the whispers about my behavior swept through the crowds. I was going to have to work quick, damn it, when what I wanted to do was savor the moment…oh, well…no one ever said that life was fair, did they?

"You know what, Cadence?" I asked loudly and smirked when she jumped away, as if I'd hit her, the same way that she had always done, from the time we were little kids. "It's a common occurrence for a male dog to come across a bitch that he finds attractive and give her hind end a little sniff, to see if the moment is right, and if it is, he jumps on and gives her all that he has, without so much as saying _Hi_ or _How are you?_ Or _my name is Fido…what's yours?_ But I have to say that this is the first time that I've come across a scenario where the _bitch_ was the one doing the sniffing. Can you explain to me, and everyone else, for that matter, how this behavior came to be? Inquiring minds want to know, Cadence, were you born to be a tramp, or did you have to work really hard to reach your current level of sluttiness?"

Tommy's POV

God, she was sexy. That was something that I'd known from the first moment that I laid eyes on her, well, that, and the fact that she definitely marched to the beat of her own drummer, but now I couldn't stop staring at her, and wondered when anger had become so appealing to me. Of course, it probably helped that her fury hadn't been directed at me, it probably wouldn't have been nearly so arousing to me, if my ass was the one that she'd been chewing on, but I hadn't been the target of her anger that afternoon, I'd been an innocent bystander, and, in one instance, the one that she'd been defending against her family, I was the one that she'd been protecting from that blonde slut and that was a memory that made me hot for her from the top of my head to the tips of my toes.

Geez…when had I started thinking like that I? I must have been going soft in the head, which made sense, I suppose, given that every last drop of blood that was in my body had surged to one spot, putting me in a position where I was forced to sit, with a pillow hiding my crotch, so Lily wouldn't see that I was primed and ready to go. Granted, I intended to tell her just how much I wanted her, I didn't want there to be a doubt in her mind that she set me on fire, but I wanted to show her at the perfect moment, and I didn't think this was the right time, not now, no matter how hard it was to wait…..

"I'm so sorry, Tommy," she said, dropping down onto my sofa beside me, and, aw, hell, grabbing the pillow off of my lap, so that she could hug it close to her chest. "I thought that my family was capable of behaving themselves for one day, but I guess that I was hoping for too much, wasn't I?"

I was torn between feeling relieved that she hadn't noticed the tent that had pitched itself between my thighs, and feeling insulted for the same damned reason, and had to force my attention to the place where it belonged. I was a little short on concentration at that moment, not to mention the overall blood loss that was making me a little lightheaded, so I had to be very careful that I wouldn't do or say anything that would get me into trouble. It was a nice idea; it was a smart one too, but damned if I didn't open my mouth and screw everything up.

"It wasn't so bad, baby," I said, shifting on my seat and drawing in a pained breath as the movement caused my pants to tighten on a spot that was a hell of a lot more sensitive than it normally would have been. "After all, you were there to protect me and to take my side, and besides which, you already promised to be my date for my dad's party, and I'm pretty sure that it's going to be just as big of a train wreck as your old man's was….."

Oh, shit…I hadn't meant to commit myself to that party. Granted, it was something that my family wanted, and, even more important than that, it was something that Lily was looking forward to, but I had no desire at all to be around my brother and his family, and I sure as hell didn't want to spend the day in Pop's presence, but there was no taking back what I'd said, not unless I wanted to wipe that smile off of Lily's face, that is.

"Oh, Tommy, do you really mean it?" she said happily, and moved to sit on my lap, and when I say _moved_, I mean that she jumped onto me, and I barely managed to stifle the answering groan that rose in my throat. "Oh, Baboo, you changed your mind! Thank you, thank you, thank….."

Her enthusiastic chattering slowly died away, and a look of confusion showed itself on her face while she experimentally wriggled her butt back and forth on my hard-on, drawing another moan from me, one that I couldn't have hidden, no matter how hard I tried. I was pretty sure by that time that she was trying to kill me, because she squirmed around a couple more times, then realization took the place of confusion and she turned to look into my eyes, with lips that were curved into a smile that made my balls tighten with both fear _and_ anticipation.

"I think that you kind of like me, don't you, my sweet and sexy Baboo?" she asked, running her hands over my chest. "You really, _really_ want to kiss me, and you think that I'm the prettiest, and the hottest and I'm irresistible and gorgeous and….."

She was on a roll by that time, and her hands, and her fingernails, were bringing goosebumps to life on my arms, and she was so damned cute…but I was quickly losing the grip that I was just barely clinging to with each and every stroke of her hands on my chest, not to mention the constant, torturous caress of her sweetly soft ass across my…..

I wasn't sure if I was taking things too fast, but I had to take drastic steps, to ease the pressure of her butt against my cock, and those steps involved me rising a little unsteadily to my feet, with her in my arms, so that I could stumble my way to my bedroom. My hands were practically glued to her ass, her legs were wrapped around my waist and I was kissing her until we were both breathless and then I tossed her onto my bed, and when I say _tossed_, I mean that literally. I wasn't gentle and romantic, I just bounced her onto my mattress and stretched out between her legs and made myself comfortable.

"Yes, Lily, I really, _really_ like you," I told her, sliding my hands beneath her sweater, drawing it up and off of her, and tossing it over my shoulder. "And I'm going to kiss you for hours, if that's alright with you. And I'm going to put my hands on you, and I'm going to lick you and bite you and make sure that you know that you're mine, because you're the prettiest and the hottest, you're irresistible and gorgeous, and I've been wondering for a long time whether you whimper and sigh when you come, or if you're more of a screamer instead."

I don't know where I got my nerve, but it was something that I kind of liked, and it was obvious that she liked it as well, if the way that she arched against me and gasped was any indication. She was blushing, a pretty pink on her neck and the slopes of her breasts that showed over the cups of her bra and bright red on her face, but there was an unmistakable glimmer of excitement in her eyes that told me that she was ready, willing and able for anything and everything that I had in mind.

"What if I like to mix it up?" she asked shyly, blushing even brighter, but boldly holding my gaze with her own. "What if I like to whimper _and_ sigh _and_ scream?"

There was something about the way that she said that, 'what if' that made me wonder if she knew what sort of sounds she made when she came, and that got me thinking about the fact that I had no idea at all what experiences she had when it came to sex. I wouldn't have thought that she was a virgin, but I was pretty sure that she hadn't had very many lovers either, given that blush that she was wearing.

"Lily, baby, have you ever had an orgasm before?" I asked, bending to kiss, then, very gently, to bite the slope of her breast.

"Hmm…oh, God," she gasped, clutching her hands tight against my biceps. "Don't be silly, Baboo. I'm a grown woman, and what sort of grown woman has never had an orgasm?"

I nibbled on her throat and deftly opened her bra, then threw it to the side, so I could kiss my way around her nipples. "Do you pleasure yourself, or have any of those orgasms happened with a man?"

She was holding her breath, but it left her in a rush, in a whimper of need, when I ran the tip of my tongue over her nipple, tracing it, and then drawing it into my mouth, so that I could suck on it. "I'm afraid that my hands are the only lovers that I've had since high school. I had sex once, and it was awful, and I decided that I didn't want to do that anymore."

Poor baby…I guess that most woman had those sorts of experiences their first time, but I hoped that I could change her mind, I hoped that I could show her that it was possible to enjoy sex, hell, I hoped that I could prove to her that it could be something that was downright amazing. My own skills were pretty damned rusty, but I was confident that I could make love to her in a way that would have her whimpering _and_ sighing _and_ screaming, because she inspired me in ways that no woman had ever done before her, and I was bound and determined that I wouldn't allow myself to enjoy everything to its full potential unless she did as well.

"I'll have to see what I can do to fix that for you, won't I, Smoochie?" I asked, cupping her cheek with one hand, and kissing her softly, while my other hand made its way down her tummy, to the button on her jeans. "If you want me to, that is."

Survey Time: Okay, readers, give me some feedback here. Should Tommy and Lily go "all the way" in the next chapter, or would you prefer more limes before I commence with the lemons?


	13. Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Thirteen

Tommy's POV

I tried to remember the last time that I'd opened the button on a woman's jeans and eased down the zipper, so that I could have room to slip my hand inside, but it had been awhile, so the memory didn't come back to me very easily, which was fine, because I didn't really want to remember that moment, or the woman associated with it either, not really. All I wanted to think about was the sight of Lily stretched out on my bed, she was all that I wanted to see, to hear, to taste, to smell and to feel. She was mine, and I was going to take my time showing her how much I wanted her, just in case there was any doubt left in her mind.

You'd think that I'd never seen a pair of breasts before, given that I couldn't keep my hands, or my mouth, not to mention my eyes off of them. I loved the way that they felt in my hands, the way that they filled them completely. Her nipples were so sensitive, and she whimpered and moaned when I stroked them with my thumbs, tiny little whimpers and hitching moans that grew louder, more frequent and more insistent when I replaced my thumbs with my lips, my teeth, and, especially, with my tongue.

I could tell that she was self-conscious before I started to stick my hand down into her pants, but her insecurity was almost palatable in the room when she felt my palm against her stomach. She jumped, then tried to pretend that she hadn't, and her face turned red while her eyes bounced all over the room and she did her best to look somewhere that wasn't directed at me, but I wasn't going to let her hide from me. I leaned over her and made sure that she couldn't get away from me, no matter how hard she tried, and when that didn't stop her, I took hold of her face with my hand and held her in place.

"Why are you so jumpy, Lily?" I asked softly, tracing my fingers over her face and pressing my lips to her eyebrow, to the corner of her mouth, and to the tip of her nose. "Am I moving too fast, baby? Do I need to slow down a little, hmm?"

I was really, _really_ hoping that she would decline my offer to slow down, but it was one that had to be made, no matter what I wanted. This was never going to work between us unless we were both in it together, and she wasn't standing beside me if something was bothering her. Yeah, it wasn't easy to bring things to a screeching stop right then and there, but what was easy was hardly ever what was best, and that was all that I wanted to offer her right now.

"No, Baboo, you're not moving too fast, and I don't want to slow down…it's not you at all, it's me."

Her voice had gotten very soft, and she still wouldn't look me in the eye. "What's you, Lily?" I asked, placing my fingertips against her cheek and moving her so that she would have no choice but to look at me. "What are you talking about?"

She tried to move her face away, so that she could hide from me, again, and when I wouldn't let her do that, she moved her eyes. "Huh-uh," I whispered, moving my other hand, so that I was cradling her face in my palms. "You're not going anywhere, baby girl. You're going to trust me enough to tell me what it is that has got you so upset, you're not going to run away from me, because I'm not going to let you…are we clear on all of that, hmm, Lily?"

She nodded, and moved her eyes back to mine, and I did my best to concentrate on them, and to ignore the blush that covered her cheeks, the one that was moving down her neck, to rest on her breasts. "It's just that I, well, that is, hmm, I noticed that my, hmm, stomach, is a little, well, _softer_, than it ought to be, and maybe you're thinking that it's, hmm, well, that it's past time that I dragged out my exercise tapes and get, hmm, myself back into shape, and I will, I've been lazy and lax, but I have every intention of whipping myself back into shape, just you wait and see if I don't, Baboo, and then maybe I won't be so, err, _self-conscious_ whenever you put your hand on my tummy, because it won't be fat like it is now, and….."

I let her stammer and blush longer than I normally would have, because she'd managed to catch me completely off-guard. What the hell kind of world did we live in when a woman with a body like the one that she had, the one that had me walking around in a near constant state of arousal, thought that she was _fat_? It didn't say much for the world view, that was for damned sure, but I knew what looked good, even if they didn't, and I didn't care if it took me all night, I was going to prove to her that she had nothing to worry about, and that she was perfect just the way that she was.

I could have tried to explain to her what I was feeling with words, but I didn't want there to be any chance that she might misunderstand me, and that was why I decided to let my hands and my lips do the talking for me instead. I slid down on the bed, and pushed her jeans down just enough that I could see her stomach, and once she was bared, I pressed my mouth against her, in that sweet spot that rested between her breasts, and I started kissing my way down her body, keeping my palm pressed to the spot that she thought might have put me off, a constant stroking, to let her know that I liked what I felt.

I drew circles on her with the tip of my tongue, and hid smiles that were probably a little bit conceited when I heard her breathing speed up, and the occasional quick intake of breath that she would take when I'd nip her skin with my teeth. I could tell that she enjoyed what I was doing to her, but apparently she wasn't ready to let go of her self-consciousness just yet, which meant that I was going to have to try harder to convince her that she turned me inside out and upside-down, wasn't I?

"Oh, Tommy, you don't have to do that," she said, reaching down to put her hand between her stomach and my mouth. "I'm all doughy and puffy there, and I don't expect you to-oo-oo!"

I loved making her sing, it was quickly becoming one of my favorite things, and most of the time she didn't mind me doing something that would launch her into an aria, but the glare that she was giving me at that moment told me that licking the back of her hand was a prime example of me taking things too far. I suppose that I ought to have apologized, I ought to have sweetened her back up, but I was a man on a mission, damn it, and I hoped that I could make things up to her with what I had planned, as opposed to letting loose with apologies that were essentially bullshit in nature, because I certainly wouldn't truly be sorry for what I'd done.

"You're not doughy," I told her, softly kissing the spot that rested right above her bellybutton. "Or puffy," I said, running the tip of my tongue around her navel, again and again, until I heard her whimper, and then I dipped inside, and smiled when she gasped my name. "And you sure as hell aren't fat, though you are all nice and soft, which is exactly what a woman is supposed to be, so why do you think that I'd be disappointed by that?"

She was trying to speak, to answer me, but she kept tripping over her words instead. "I didn't, umm, I thought that, well, I just assumed….."

I knew that it wasn't a good idea to laugh at her, not when she was feeling so fragile and out of place, but in the end I just couldn't help myself, though I _did_ manage to restrict myself to a quick chuckle, instead of letting loose with a volley that would have embarrassed her even more, and possibly incited her temper as well.

"Didn't your father tell you what happens when a person assumes something?" I whispered, raising my eyes to smile at her. "I would have thought that would have been a lesson that he would have taught to all of his children."

"Yes, he taught us all about that," she said, and her eyes widened as I moved lower and lower on her stomach, and she gasped again when I took the waistband of her panties between my teeth and tugged on it. "But the world taught me what is beautiful and what is not, and even though there are some that say that men like women who are curvy and soft, I've yet to meet one personally….."

"The hell you haven't," I said, moving back up on the bed, so that I could kiss her, and begin, once more, the process of sliding my hand into her panties. "You've met me, haven't you, baby girl? I hope you remember that, otherwise, what am I doing with my hand inside your pants, hmm?"

She smiled at me, a curve of her lips that was small and shy. "Yes, I have," she whispered, then blushed all over again. "How could I forget that, Baboo, hand in my panties or not? The day that I met you was the best that I've had in my whole life…though, I have to admit, that this one, in spite of all its irritations, is running a close second."

Lily's POV

I'd known that Tommy thought that I was pretty, maybe even sexy, possibly even beautifully irresistible, if I was really, _really_ lucky, but it had never occurred to me that my body played a starring role in what he found attractive. I guess that I'd always assumed that my figure was one of the co-stars, I'd even dared to hope that it was a special guest, but all of that thinking had gone to the wayside when I saw, with my own eyes, the proof that he thought that I was va-va-voom from the top of my head to the tip of my toes.

I knew that I wasn't fat, that I wasn't even in the vicinity of honestly referring to myself as such, but I also knew that I wasn't willowy, I wasn't slender, or thin. I had inherited my figure from my mother, just as my sisters had, but they possessed more discipline than I did and had toned their curves, whereas I had allowed mine to stay soft. It was laziness, pure and simple, which was sinful, but for some odd reason I was being rewarded, because Tommy was clearly crazy about softness and curviness…hmm…talk about mixed messages.

I'd watched him carefully while he kissed my tummy and rubbed it with his hand, keeping a close eye out for any sign that his interest in me might wane, but that bulge in his pants had stayed the same the whole time, and I was pretty sure that a man couldn't fake an erection. Oh, I know that guys had sex with women that they weren't all that hot about all of the time, at least, I'd heard stories to that effect, but I already knew that Tommy _did_ like me, that he liked me a lot, as a matter of fact, so I chose to believe that his hard-on was genuine, and not some byproduct of a man who desperately needed a little loving.

His hand slid into my pants, and beneath the waistband of my panties, the ones that he had _bit_, and my breath froze within me for a few seconds, then reignited quickly, keeping time with the rhythm of my frantically beating heart as his fingertips curled around me in a way that was both protective _and_ possessive in nature. I could feel the roughness of his fingertips caressing me, and felt another hitch in my breathing, one that made its way into a moan when one of those calloused fingertips found, and stroked, the part of me that I was sure was warm and swollen and wet to the touch.

"Oh, Tommy," I breathed, clutching my hands against his shirt, pulling at it again and again, until I'd finally managed to tug it off of him, so that I could throw it across the room. "I hope that you don't mind that I'm getting your fingers all wet."

I heard him smother a chuckle, and felt like a dolt, but only for a moment, because then he raised his head away from my neck, which he'd been nibbling, and smiled at me. "Oh, Lily," he said softly, in a tone that was filled with laughter. "Of course I don't, baby. That's the whole point, isn't it? After all, that's what I want to feel, that's what shows me that I'm doing things right, so why wouldn't I want to get wet, hmm?"

I meant to answer him, I really did, but I lost my train of thought altogether when he bent over to take my nipple into his mouth. I was awash in one wonderful sensation followed by another after that, and I momentarily lost my ability to speak, though my capacities for moaning, and for gasping his name had remained intact. I could feel the rasp of the hair on his chest against one nipple, while the other one experienced the soft gentleness of his tongue as it traced and moved over and tantalized my flesh, and before I could stop it, a whimper escaped my lips, followed closely by another, and then, oh, God, a third one, which quickly became a groan of his name.

"Does that feel good, Lily?" he asked quietly, in a tone that was purely seductive sexiness, at least it was to my ears. "Should I do it again?"

"Mmm," I moaned, twisting about beneath him, tangling my fingers in his hair, so that I could keep him right where he was. "Mmm-hmm…yes, please."

I was glad to hear that I was still capable of speech that was at least somewhat intelligible, at least, I was for a couple of seconds, but then that fingertip of his, the one that had been stroking me, parted me just a bit and made its way inside, and then it seemed like time was standing still. Everything around me froze, and seemed to be waiting for the exact moment when he would caress the length of me, pausing on that special and wonderful button, barely touching it, before he moved away.

I exhaled, pouring all of my disappointment into that one sigh, but it would seem that I ought to have known better, because it wasn't but a couple of seconds later that he returned his attention to my clitoris, stroking it gently, teasing it and drawing it further out of hiding. He rubbed it in a way that I'd never accomplished personally, those perfect strokes, ones that were not too soft or too rough, the sort that caused the fire to build within me, slowly, but surely, stronger and stronger, with each caress of his roughened flesh.

"Mmm…oh…gah," I said breathlessly, sounding, at least to my own ears, like a cavewoman who could feel a massive orgasm making its way toward her. "Baboo…hmm…more…please…don't…stop."

Well, that was better. At least I'd managed to find a few words inside my scrambled mind, though I could do _a lot_ better, well, that is, I could have, had I not felt myself being moved, hurtled, is more like it, toward a moment that would probably, okay, okay, that _would_ find me making quite a spectacle of myself. His touch had become more insistent, and he wasn't showing me any mercy at all, and I had a good idea that he wouldn't give me an inch, even if I wanted it…which I didn't.

He took his mouth away from my nipple, which was a shame, and hovered over me, bending to press kisses to my lips every now and then, catching a moan, then a gasp, followed by a whimper. "That's right, Lily. Let it happen, baby girl. Don't hide from it…don't hide from me."

Oh, God. I was so swollen, enough so that the ache was nearly unbearable. I was so wet, I could feel it trickling out of me, onto his fingers, but he didn't let up. He caressed me, again and again, as the tension built, until I was writhing on the bed beneath him, raising my hips off of the mattress in time with the stroke of his fingertip, and then, finally, gloriously, _loudly_, everything came to a screeching halt and my consciousness flew open, and allowed me to be consumed by the breathtaking tremors that seized hold of me as I came undone.

I couldn't even begin to tell you what I said in those moments. I don't even know if I managed any sort of comprehensible speech, but I do know that whatever I was saying erupted from me in a scream, one that necessitated him moving his mouth onto mine, to capture each and every cry as it left me, and, when that didn't work, he placed his hand, very gently, and also very firmly, over my mouth to quiet me, which was fortunate, because there was nothing, I would imagine, that could ruin afterglow so thoroughly, as a visit by the authorities, who'd been called to investigate the screams of a woman who was obviously being murdered.

Once I regained the ability to think I opened my eyes, so that I could look at him, and found him watching me with a smile on his face that held a lot more smugness than what was decent, and I ought to have made him pay for being so conceited, but how could I fault him for something that he had every right to feel? There was no denying the fact that he had made me come, that he had done so with an intensity that I'd never felt before, so he had every right to be full of himself…that being said, there was no reason why I shouldn't return the favor, was there?

"Mmm…sweet and sexy Baboo," I murmured, miraculously finding the strength to bend over and press my lips against his, lips that moved down his throat, and further still, to his chest, while my hand made its way to the button on his pants and opened them, then drew down the zipper. "It's your turn now, isn't it, sweetie?"

There was a fair amount of anticipation in his eyes, but he was still caught up in thinking that he was the boss, and therefore ought to tell me what to do. "Tonight was all about you, Smoochie," he said, in a tone that was rough, almost a growl, which sparked a tiny quiver within me, in spite of the fact that I was still breathless from the orgasm that he'd just given me. "We'll make it all about both of us tomorrow night…how does that sound to you…oh, God."

I'd been hoping to make him sing, given that he did that to me so much, but the moaning sound of his voice as I took him in hand, so to speak, was enough for me. I suppose that I ought to have stroked him through his underwear for a bit, just to tease him, but in the end my curiosity got the best of me, and as I held him, I found that I liked what I felt, very much so, and I was glad that I had given in to my impulses, as opposed to holding back.

"Hmm…I'm thinking that tonight will be all about us as well," I told him, feeling that sweet ache between my thighs start itself anew when I stroked my thumb across the silkiness that capped his cock and heard him groan and watched him shudder. "How does that sound to you?"


	14. Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fourteen

Lily's POV

It was a nerve rattling experience, to attend a family gathering with your man for the first time, but it was a bazillion times worse when you were mixing and mingling and doing your damnedest to appear normal and interesting and sweet and sophisticated when you had a serious case of the horny tingles. What's that you say? You don't know what the horny tingles are, hmm? Well, that's when your entire body shivers and quivers, from the top of your head to the tips of your toes, because your significant other insists on staring at you, with that look in his eyes, the one that says that he's picturing you bare-assed naked, and then he ups the ante by winking at you.

How in hell did he expect me to converse with his family like an ordinary person, when he insisted on seducing me with those eyes of his, for crying out loud? They probably thought that I was a nutcase…though, now that I thought about it, they might have already been of that opinion, given that I'd tripped and fell into the table of gifts as soon as I walked into the house, don't you think? Maybe they wouldn't go so far as to say that I was crazy, maybe they'd just settle for weird, I mean, I could always hope, couldn't I?

Everything was going just fine, well, it was, if you looked beyond the fact that I felt like jumping on Tommy and climbing him like he was a big, muscle-bound, gorgeously tempting tree, but then the time came for Paddy to open his presents, and things got kind of, well, _emotional_. Up until that point, Brendan and Tommy were both on their guard, with each other, and with their father as well, but once the wrapping paper started coming off, they got downright uncomfortable, and I saw a side of my Baboo begin to emerge that I'd never seen even a hint of before that day.

Brendan had done just fine, he'd watched Paddy open the gift from his family, a hat, gloves and scarf set, that seemed to me to be the sort of thing that you would buy for someone that you really didn't know that well, but, then, it wasn't my place to judge, was it? My turn came next, for some reason, and I held my breath, and watched anxiously, as my gift was opened. It was the same family tree blanket that I'd gotten for my own father, one that put armed forces insignias next to the members who'd served at one point or another during their lives, so there was one representing the Marine Corps next to Paddy's name…and one beside Tommy's as well.

The room got deathly quiet as everyone snuck a peek at my gift, and it dawned on me that I'd done something that was terribly wrong, though it took me several moments to realize what it was. It had never occurred to me that Tommy would be upset by the sign of the USMC insignia beside his name, but what other emotion could have caused him to have such a ghastly look on his face? I was tempted to rush forward and take the blanket out of Paddy's hands, to hide it, at the very least, I might have even been tempted to destroy it, but then I realized that doing so would only make me look like more of an ass, so I stayed right where I was instead.

"That's real nice of you, Lily," Paddy said, his raspy voice carrying easily through the awkward silence and making me feel the teensiest bit better…until I looked at Tommy, and then I felt like I'd stabbed him in the heart all over again. "Very thoughtful, to get me something that's both pretty and practical all at the same time, and it was good of you to do some research, so that we could all be included, isn't that right, Brendan?"

I couldn't say with any certainty whether or not Brendan had been listening to anything that his father had to say up until that point, but I was guessing that he hadn't really been following along all that closely, because he jumped in the air when his father called his name, and started blushing once his feet hit the floor again.

"Yeah, sure, that's right, Pop," he said, clearing his throat, his eyes darting around the room like someone who was looking desperately for a way out. "Why don't you open Tommy's gift, and then we'll see about rounding up some cake and ice cream for everyone. Does that sound like a good idea to you?"

It seemed that there was no hope at all that the air could be cleared, and everyone could go back to feeling just slightly awkward, as opposed to feeling downright uncomfortable from all of the tension that was in the air. Paddy nodded his response to Brendan's obvious attempt to distract him, and stepped forward to take Tommy's plainly wrapped gift off of the table, only to be stopped by his youngest son, who'd moved past me without making a sound, and was holding the package tightly in his hand, until his father looked at him, and then he handed him the present.

"Thank you, Tommy," Paddy said softly, and I could hear the surprise that was in his voice and the tentative happiness as well, and I hoped that Tommy wouldn't do anything to take the latter of those away from his father. I didn't know the details of what had happened while they were growing up that had made them think of their father the way the way that they did, just as I didn't know what had made the two brothers grow apart. Tommy had never shared that information with me, and it wasn't my place to ask, just like it wasn't my business to judge their behavior toward one another, but it wasn't easy to keep my need to help, nor my opinions, to myself.

I was proud of my Baboo, because he didn't say or do anything that would hurt his father, but, then, how could he, when he didn't say or do anything at all, except for barely nodding his head? I expected him to make his retreat, now that he'd handed over his gift, but he surprised me, once again, and stayed right where he was, and watched closely as Paddy slowly removed the paper from the present, revealing a volume of _Moby Dick_, one that looked kind of old, a little beat-up, but I was willing to bet that its somewhat shabby state didn't matter to Paddy in the least, not if his smile, and the tears in his eyes were any indication.

"Tommy," he said, his normally gruff voice made raspier by the emotion that caused that one word, his baby boy's name, to escape him in a shaky whisper. His hands were trembling as he turned the volume over and over in his hands, and his bottom lip joined in as well, and I definitely expected Tommy to flee, but he continued to stand his ground. I could see that he was a little ill-at-ease, watching his father succumb to his emotions, but he didn't walk away from him…he walked toward him instead.

"I know that you already have that book, Pop, and yours is newer, and in better shape, but I thought that you'd like this one, because it has illustrations, and I bought it from a nice lady whose husband owned it from the time that he was a kid, and he was a Marine too, so I thought that you might…hmm…well, anyways, I hope that you like it."

He would have moved away from his dad, it was clear that he was feeling self-conscious, so much so that he was almost stammering, but Paddy grabbed hold of him before he could make a run for it. I thought that it was probably a bad idea for his father to try to hug him, given that Tommy was clearly uncomfortable, but he did so anyway, and even though Tommy didn't exactly return the embrace, he didn't reject it either, and a few moments passed in awkwardly sweet silence, and then Paddy cleared his throat and declared that he was ready for cake and ice cream.

I offered to help Tess wait on everyone, and she thanked me, but said that she didn't need any help. She handed me a plate with a thick square of store-bought cake and a scoop of chocolate ice cream and I wandered into the living room, drawn by the sound of the television. I wanted to seek Tommy out, and tell him that I hadn't meant to upset him, but he had disappeared after Paddy blew out his candles, so I sought the company of Emily and Rosie instead, and found them sprawled out on the living room floor, eating cake and ice cream, while they watched some show called Total Drama Action.

I started to sit down on the couch, but the girls spotted me and asked me to join them, so I lowered myself onto the floor, praying, the entire time, that my skirt wouldn't ride up and show my underwear to anyone and everyone who came into the room. I was uncomfortable for all of two minutes, and then I got into the show, and found myself laughing out loud, like a complete loon, aided by the boisterous giggles of the girls and the overly sweet cake that I was putting away with all of the delicacy of a linebacker.

I felt his presence as soon as he entered the room and everything changed in an instant. My guffaws died away, and I slowly drew my hand away from my mouth, knowing that there was very little chance that I'd run the risk of spewing cake onto the carpet, since I wasn't laughing any longer. He probably didn't realize that I knew he was in the room, and I wondered how long I ought to lie still, and allow him to watch me before I turned over and met his eyes. I wondered how long I could hold out, before I had no choice but to roll over and look at him.

It turned out that I didn't have the ability to hide from him for very long, not that I had expected anything different from myself. I slowly turned over, onto my side, and found that his eyes were trained on me, just as I'd expected them to be. I was afraid that I'd see the proof that he was hurt by what I'd done, that there might even be anger looking back at me from his eyes, but I didn't see any sign that he was even remotely upset with me. His gaze was one that was soft, one that was almost what you might call loving in nature…along with a fair share, an abundance, you might say, of desire, as well.

I snuck a peek at the girls and determined that they were completely engrossed in their show and then I raised myself off of the floor, and, taking a page from _Dirty Dancing_, I channeled Baby making her way toward Johnny on her hands and knees. I strove to make my movements slinky and sexy, but Baby had been decked out in cutoffs, and I was wearing a skirt, so my crawling wasn't quite as sinuous or seductive as hers had been, but Tommy seemed to like it anyway.

I reached the side of the couch and stopped, resting on my knees beside his legs, never breaking eye contact, and ran my hand up his calf, further and further, until I reached his hand, which was clenched tightly in a fist against his thigh. I brought it toward my lips, turning it over, so that his palm was facing up, and gently kissed each callous, the old marks, along with the new ones, that he'd recently acquired, from getting back into the gym to go one-on-one with a punching bag.

I was conscious of the fact that we weren't alone, and, even more than that, that Brendan or Tess or Paddy could also come in at any moment. I wanted to open my mouth, to run my tongue over his flesh, to make him breathe even faster than he was at that moment, to make him moan my name, then growl it, but that would have to wait. All that I could do at that moment was to kiss him, very simply, and hope that he would know that I'd never meant to hurt him, that I'd never meant to do anything that would…..

"Why are you licking Uncle Tommy's hand, Lily?" Rosie asked, her tiny voice making me jump in the air, and I took advantage of the fact that I was airborne to rise to my feet as quickly as possible, or, rather, to try to, only to stumble and nearly topple to the floor. My Baboo reached out and held me upright, saving me, just like he always did, though I didn't think it was necessary for him to wink at me and smile, given that I was already blushing. "There's plenty more cake, if you're still hungry."

Well, hell…I might have known that I wouldn't be able to keep my tongue to myself. I never should have put my lips on him at all, because I knew how hard it was to restrain my need to taste him. It seemed that I lost the ability to keep my tongue to myself whenever he was close to me, but why couldn't I control myself when there were children nearby? Was I completely obsessed with him, so much so that I was shameless and had no issue at all with exposing their innocent eyes to the sight of me kneeling beside their uncle and licking his hand like a lollipop?

"Cake tastes the best when you lick it off of someone else's palm," Tommy said seriously, though I could see the humor that was in his eyes, making them sparkle. "You should try it some time."

Hmm, he might have been taking things a little too far. I started to tell the girls that he was teasing them, after which I hoped to be inspired with some sort of explanation for what I'd been doing that wouldn't freak them out, but Rosie took hold of Emily's hand before I could say a word, and ran the tip of her tongue over her sister's palm. Emily immediately took offense and yelled at the top of her lungs, then grabbed Rosie's hand and showed her what a tongue felt like on your palm, upping the ante by running her tongue between her sister's fingers, and, hmm, well, let's just say that all hell broke loose after that.

It didn't take Tess long to come running, followed closely by Brendan, and, last but not least, by Paddy. Brendan grabbed his daughters and drew them apart and Tess demanded an explanation…and I did my best to sneak out of the room, only to be stopped by Tommy, who looked like he was ready to bust out laughing. He pulled me down beside him on the couch and put his arm around me, holding me in place, which wasn't all that bad, because it was a feeling that was nice and warm and cuddly…until Rosie turned to look at me, and then to, oh, crap, she pointed her tiny finger right at me.

"Lily was licking the cake off of Uncle Tommy's hand because that is how it tastes best, even though it makes your hand yucky and sticky. Don't you know anything, Mommy?"

Tommy's POV

She wanted to be mad at me for "getting her in trouble" with my family, but I knew how to make her laugh, and she could never stay angry when she was rolling around on my bed and giggling. I knew that no one was going to hold what had happened against her, no more than I was going to hold a grudge for putting the Corps emblem next to my name on that blanket, even though I'd been booted out. She was one of those people that you could hardly manage to get mad at in the first place, and it was damned near impossible to stay that way, even if you did manage, so, long story short, the only place where everyone was pissed off at her was in her mind, and it was up to me to make her forget about that and concentrate on feeling good instead.

I'd been suffering all day long, doing my best to pretend that I wasn't obsessing over her, and I was pretty sure that I'd done a good job, though it had been a trial at times to hide the hard-ons that insisted on popping up every time she was close to me and I got a nose full of her perfume. Everything that she did turned me on, she made me crazy, and frustrated, and dizzy, and I had to wonder if I'd get any relief after I had a taste of all that she had to offer, or would I be worse off than I was at that moment?

It was a thought that ought to have scared me, it should have had me running, but I didn't really mind the notion of being hooked on her for the rest of my life. I knew all about addiction, it was something that I'd wrestled with for some time, but she was an habit that would be good for me, one that would give me purpose, and joy, and some contentment…as long as she didn't kill me, that is.

I was enjoying my idea of a perfect night, one that was spent in my bed, with Lily. She was naked, I was naked and I'd tickled her until she was laughing and had no choice but to get over being angry with me. Then I kissed her, starting with that luscious mouth, the one that had the ability to inspire thoughts in me that would have probably made her blush, and then I'd worked my way down, kissing and licking and sucking on her earlobes, and her neck, then her collarbone, and her breasts…I spent a lot of time there, and then went to work on her stomach, and was all set to move myself between her thighs, but she stopped me before I could get comfortable.

"Huh-uh, Baboo," she said, aiming for a tone that was supposed to be one of authority, I guess, but her efforts were ruined by the fact that she was breathless from whimpering and calling out my name. "It's my turn to go first, remember?"

Aw, hell…she placed her hands on my shoulders, and made a laughable effort to push me back on the bed. I could have fought her, if I'd wanted to, but why would I want to do that? It was going to be blissful torture, to feel her mouth on me, to look down and see the things that I'd imagined becoming reality, but there was no way that I could tell her that she didn't have to do that to me. I hadn't intended for her to repay me in kind for what I wanted to do to her, I'd thought about it, several times, as a matter of fact, but I'd never imagined that she would insist on wrapping her sweet lips around me first…it was mind-blowing and so hot, and I was afraid that I wouldn't last a minute after she touched me.

She moved on the bed, so that she was kneeling between my legs, and then she laid down, teasing me with the softness of her breasts, and then, the feather soft brush of her lips on my thighs. I sucked in a deep breath through teeth that were tightly clenched, and grabbed the blanket tight in my fists. Oh, God, there was the tip of her tongue, moving slowly, licking me, tasting me, bit by bit, and then she took hold of me, the warmth and softness of her palm held me, while her little fingers encircled me, and she stroked me, from the top to the bottom, and I moaned helplessly and gripped the covers even tighter, so much so that my fingers were starting to hurt.

"Mmm…look at you," she said, and I tensed in anticipation when I felt the warmth of her breath as it washed over me. She was driving me out of my mind, by hovering her mouth over me, and not actually touching me, and I wanted to tell her to stop, to stop teasing me, that is, because she was making me crazy. "You're so pretty all over, and this fellow here is downright beautiful…does it make you feel weird that I'm using _pretty _and _beautiful_ to describe you?"

"Hmm…hell…please," I growled, throwing the covers aside, so that I could plunge my fingers into my hair. "I don't care what words you use, baby, I just want you to stop teasing me, okay?"

My words were rough, and they were pushy, and she would have been well within her rights to punish me by moving away from me altogether, but thankfully she took pity on me instead. She smiled up at me sweetly, and moved her hand, so that she had two fingers holding my cock, while the others gently caressed my balls, and then she slowly welcomed me inside, leisurely encircling and embracing me, and I couldn't have silenced the whimper that rose in me, at that first feel of her wrapped around me, not even if I'd wanted to.

Oh, God…this was hell, the sweetest sort of torment possible, and I knew that I could only survive it if I was touching her. I took my fingers out of my hair, moaning in time with her rhythm as she hugged me close, and then released me, over and over again. I moved my hands to her head, remembering, somehow, that I had to be gentle, and delved my fingertips into her hair, softly twisting and twining the silken lengths around my fingers, until I reached her scalp, and then I started to massage her, rubbing and caressing, while I lost myself in the feel of her turning me inside out.

I was grateful that I'd managed to last so long, I have to be honest and tell you that I had serious doubts that I'd be able to, but I could feel the moment moving closer. I started to wonder whether I ought to stop her before I lost control, and realized that I ought to have asked her before she touched me, just so I'd know, without a doubt, what the limits were. Wouldn't she have said something if she didn't want me to let go…..

"Uhh…Lily…baby," I moaned, moving my hips off of the bed, as I got closer and closer. "Oh…damn…what…hmm."

It wasn't any surprise to me that I couldn't put two words together that made any sense at all, but how in hell was I supposed to find out what I was supposed to do if I didn't ask her? I didn't have the strength, not to mention the self-control, to stop her, but I had to, I needed to, before it was too late…well, hell…that was a nice thought, but now she was moving her hand, sliding it up and down, and her mouth was wrapped tight around me, and her tongue was sliding around me and in the end, I just let myself go.

I couldn't remember a single time that I'd made noise when I came before Lily, aside from a few grunts, that is, but I made all kinds of racket when I went to pieces with her, and this one was the loudest of all. I don't know what I said, I couldn't remember, even if I tried, but I would imagine that it was a mixture of wordless shouts, cries of her name, and things that were bound to be blasphemous in nature, if I had to guess.

She didn't move away from me until I was done, and then she slid next to me, to cuddle close to me, and I grabbed hold of her and held her so tight that I worried, for just a moment, that I might have been hurting her, until I heard her sigh happily, then giggle a little, as she nuzzled her nose against my chest.

"And now, Baboo, it's your turn, to give me the boom boom," she said softly, running her lips over the spot where her nose had been.

My brain was scrambled, and I felt like I was floating, and I assumed that was the reason that she wasn't making any sense. "Hmm…what are you talking about, Lily?" I asked dreamily, and then hissed out a breath when she nipped my skin, very gently, with her teeth.

"'There are only two things that Explosivo likes,'" she murmured, reaching back, to take hold of my hand, and move it to her breast. "'The first is boom. The second is boom. Put them together, and what do you have?'"

I didn't know what in the hell she was talking about, so I stared at her stupidly for a couple of seconds, until she bit me again, hard enough to make me yelp, which embarrassed me. "Boom…_boom_?" I asked, in a tone that was filled with confusion.

"'Olé!'" she shouted, right in my ear, I might add, and then she smiled at me expectantly, but I still had no idea what she was talking about.

"Lily, baby, are you feeling okay?" I asked, rising onto one elbow, so that I could see her more clearly, because I was concerned about her…not so much that I could move my fingers away from her nipple, but worried just the same.

"Don't you remember the show that Emily and Rosie were…oh, never mind, just come here and show me that you like me best, Baboo."

I still wasn't sure what it was that she was talking about, because I'd been a little too preoccupied to pay much attention to what my nieces had been watching, but she could tell me about that later on. I was going to show her that I liked her best of all…someday I might even work up the nerve to show her how much I loved her…..

"Isn't _Explosivo_ a man's name?" I asked, thoroughly disturbed by the image that came to mind. "That's not going to work for me, Smoochie. I think that we'll have to go with _Explosiva_ instead, won't we?"

Disclaimer: Thanks to Izzy, and her alter ego, Explosivo, from _Total Drama Action_. She reminds me a little of a zanier Lily, and that is why I love her.


	15. Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Fifteen

Tommy's POV

My shoulder was throbbing, so much so that it seemed to be begging me for mercy, but I ignored the pain and concentrated all of my attention on the bag in front of me. There was a time when I would have put a face on that bag, the mug of a real-life adversary, to make each and every punch that landed more meaningful to me, but now that seemed like a waste of time. How was I supposed to be strong, if I was so wrapped up in hate? How was I supposed to truly move on with my life, if I was so determined to keep on living in the past? I had to let it all go, I had to forgive the betrayals, and those who'd hurt me, and then I had to forget them.

My advice to myself was good, it was the Dr. Phil sort of wisdom that got spouted over and over again in those self-help books, and fueled one talk show after another, but, unfortunately, it was one of those things that were easier said than done. I'd hated Pop for most of my life, to some degree, and I'd resented Brendan for nearly half that time, and how was I supposed to forget about that? What pissed me off the most was the realization that I was folding so easily, when I'd been determined not to give in, while at the same time, I was grateful, because it was hard work, holding on to a grudge for so long.

I wonder what Lily would think, if she could see the inner struggle that was taking place within me. Would she still look at me with that softness in her eyes if she could see how angry I was inside? Would she still cuddle up close to me and whisper my name, if she knew that I still battled to overcome the ghosts and the demons from my past? She'd started liking the Tommy that she'd seen on her television, the one that had been a hero, for a very short time, and there were moments when I wondered if she still believed the hype and the bullshit. Was that the man that she really wanted, because he wasn't me, he could never be me again…hell, he had never been me, and where did that leave me, if that was who she thought of when she looked at me, when she cuddled close to me…when she was loving me?

My fists pounded into the bag harder and harder, and the throb in my shoulder, which had started as a whisper, became a shout as I abused my old injury with the force of my anger. I'd never been possessive of any of my other girlfriends, not that there had been all that many, and I'd certainly never been one who'd been in any danger of being jealous of another man, but the thought of any man even looking at Lily made me furious, and the idea that she might look at another man with interest was a hundred times worse, and in this case it was especially bad, because that other man was me, or, that is, it was the me that had been in the limelight…the one who'd never been there at all, and how in hell was I supposed to fight someone who didn't even exist?

Maybe I wasn't any good for her, maybe she'd be better off with someone who had less baggage than I did, but how was that supposed to happen when I couldn't stand the thought of letting her go? It was selfish of me, I suppose, to insist on holding on to her, but it hurt too damned bad to even think about loosening my grip. I finally had something in my life that made me happy and complete, for the first time, since Manny had died, I felt like life was worth living again, so how could I even think about letting go of the one thing that made me wake up in the morning?

Damn, maybe I ought to go on Dr. Phil's show, maybe I ought to yell at my brother and my father and make a complete ass of myself on national television all over again. I wondered if things could be better between the three of us, if we talked things out, and had a good, long crying jag with one another, would that finally heal the rift? Hell, I couldn't say for certain, one way or the other, though, if I was being realistic, we would probably feel more at home on the set of the Jerry Springer show.

"Whose face are you picturing?" a voice asked behind me, one that was familiar to me, and gave a ring of truth to that saying about speaking the devil's name and making him appear. "I thought that it might be Pop's, given the way that you're hammering your fists, but now that I think about it, it might very well be me that you're beating on, isn't that right?"

Damned Brendan, I might have known that he'd come looking for me sooner or later. He'd wanted me to sit and talk with him at Pop's birthday party, but I'd avoided him at all costs, because I didn't want there to be a chance of a fight of any sort breaking out. You would think that he would have taken the hint that I wanted to be left alone, it wasn't like I'd been shy about not wanting to rehash ancient history, but apparently he was a hell of a lot dimmer than he let on, because he kept showing up, oblivious to anything and everything except his desire to "make things right".

"Who says that I'm thinking about either one of you?" I asked, pounding the bag even harder, and biting back a groan of pain when I felt the impact radiating through my bum shoulder. "You guys aren't the only ones who've made my life hell, you know?"

He managed to keep his flinch to himself, for the most part, but I saw it anyway and immediately felt like a bastard. I reminded myself that I was supposed to be forgetting the past; I was trying to walk a new path, and not resort to the same bullshit that had shadowed me for the past fifteen years. I was never going to get where I wanted, I was never going to be the man that I wanted to be, if I didn't make an effort to change, and that included my brother and my old man, whether I liked it or not.

"I hope that Tess wasn't too upset about what happened at Pop's birthday," I said, hoping to smooth things over by changing the subject, instead of choking out an apology, even though I knew that I ought to tell him that I was sorry. "You know, the whole bit with Lily licking my hand. It wasn't something that she did to be disrespectful, and she's afraid that you'll all think that she is a bad influence on the girls and….."

"I won't say that we weren't surprised, because that would be a lie, but no one took offense or thought that she was being disrespectful," he assured me, moving to hold the bag for me, which meant that I was honor bound to continue, even though I was tired and hurting. "Pop really likes Lily, Tess and I think that she's great and the girls absolutely love her…you do too, don't you?"

That last bit had come out of left field and caught me completely off-guard, which was just what he'd meant to do. My first impulse was to react angrily, to punch the bag hard enough to knock him backward, but I couldn't do that, so I took a deep breath instead, and allowed myself a moment to calm down, before I responded to his question.

"What makes you say that?" I asked, stepping back and wiping off my face with the towel that I'd slung across my shoulders. It was true that I loved her; I loved her so much that it hurt, but that wasn't any of Brendan's business. I wasn't the type who went around, sharing the details of my life with anyone who'd listen, and besides which, I was…hell…I was scared to give a voice to my feelings. People could hurt you when they knew your secrets, they'd done it before and they would do it again, so why would I want to take that chance?

"It's in every look that you give her," he said, smiling broadly, clearly proud of himself, even though I was pretty sure he could tell by the look on my face and the sound of my voice that I was starting to get pissed. "And she loves you too, you know, anyone could see it, and hear it, and I'm just wondering how long it's going to be before the two of you are walking down the aisle."

I wanted to tell him to mind his own business, but I was too busy imagining Lily standing beside me, sliding a ring onto my finger. I'd vowed that I would never get married, not after the example that I'd had from my parents growing up. I knew that I had too much of my dad in me, and I never wanted to take a chance on making a woman's life a living hell, but that had been before I met Lily. It wasn't hard to imagine her as my wife, to tell the truth, it was really nice, and I liked the idea of us making a few babies, too. I wouldn't be the kind of husband or father that Pop had been, I wouldn't make her life miserable, I would be…..

"What the hell are you smiling about?" I growled, after it came to my attention that he'd gotten very quiet, and I looked up and found him staring at me with a goofy grin on his face.

"It's alright, little brother," he said, and then he had the balls to accompany his smile with a wink. "We all end up in the same boat sooner or later, it's really not that bad, and I'm always here for you, whenever you need a little advice."

* * *

Alice Lewis squirted a dollop of lotion in her hands and rubbed it in while she studied her reflection in the mirror. The silver strands in her hair had taken over and chased most of the dark brown away, but she wasn't comfortable with the idea of dyeing it, not after all of this time, because everyone who knew her would know that it was fake. She'd put on a couple of pounds during the summer, and with the holidays right around the corner she was liable to gain another five, but Lee seemed to like the extra weight on her, if him pinching and patting her backside was any indication, so maybe she would leave the pounds where they were, as long as she didn't gain any more than that…which was exactly what she had told herself twenty pounds ago.

"Why do you think he bought this book for me?" Lee called from the bed, holding up the present that he'd received from Tommy Conlon, a brand-new copy of _Grunt Gear: USMC Combat Infantry Equipment of World War II_. "I've never said anything about wanting this book to anyone other than you, so why would he know that it would be the perfect gift for me? Did you say anything to Lily about it?"

Alice turned her back on her husband before she rolled her eyes, then once that was done; she turned back toward him and made her way over to her side of the bed. "Don't you think that Lily would have gotten it for you herself if she'd known?" she asked him, reaching back, to fluff her pillow, then laying down with the deep sigh of someone who'd been on their feet for most of the day. "Maybe you and Tommy have the same taste in books, dear, have you ever considered that possibility, hmm?"

"Humph," he grunted, which was his typical response when she brought up something that he didn't want to talk about. "If he thinks that a book is all that it takes to get in my good graces, then he's got another thing coming. A book is just a book, even if it did cost him a hundred and fifty bucks, and he'll see that I'm not someone who can be bought so easily."

Alice rolled her eyes heavenward once more, wondering, for the umpteenth time, why she'd been fated to love a man who was so damned obstinate. "I don't think that he had any intention at all of buying you, dear, and besides which, why do you think he's so desperate to be in your good graces anyway?"

"Well, so he can date Lily, of course," he told her, in a way that suggested that she ought to have known the answer to that question already, and not bothered him with it. "He's after her, Alice, you could see it in the way that he looked at her, and I'm not about to stand by and let him have my baby, huh-uh, not while there's a breath of life in my body….."

"For crying out loud, Lee, didn't you see the way that _she_ was looking at him? Your daughter is in love with that man, she is over the moon for him, and in case you haven't noticed, your baby is a grown woman, a bright and intelligent woman who knows exactly what she wants, and that's who Tommy Conlon is, dear heart…he is _exactly_ what she wants."

He contemplated her words for a moment, and felt his heart sink when he realized that what she'd had said was true. "Well, hell," he grumbled, placing his book on the bedside table and settling down into the bed, beside his wife. "What are we going to do about this, Alice?"

She turned toward him and snuggled up close against his side, slipping her hand across his chest, so that her fingertips made their way inside his pajama top. "We're going to support whatever decision Lily makes, because she is our daughter and we love her. Then we're going to learn to like Tommy, and we're going to welcome him into our family…and don't you even think about arguing with me either. I've held my tongue on most things, but I'm not going to lose my daughter, Lee. She's my baby too, you know, and I won't have you chasing her away, are we clear on that, hmm?"

"Yes, ma'am," he muttered, wanting to sink further into his dark mood, but her wandering fingertips wouldn't allow him to do so. "Why is it that I get all of this backtalk in my own home? I never had anyone defy me when I had my regiment; I never had to worry about anyone giving me any lip, because they wouldn't have dared….."

"You didn't have this either," she murmured, interrupting him in the best way possible, with that hand of hers that knew exactly what he liked. Damn, but she was a stubborn woman, and she didn't fight fair either, but he appreciated her tactics just the same. He wasn't sure that he had it in him to like Tommy Conlon, but he was willing to give it a try, for the sake of peace and quiet and familial harmony…and the occasional bit of snuggle bunnies as well.

* * *

Lily's POV

He'd spent too much time battering his fists against the punching bag today. I could see that his knuckles were red and swollen, and I placed his hands in bowls of ice, in the hopes of bringing some of the swelling down. He bitched and moaned a good deal about the cold, but he shut up in a hurry when I stripped him out of all of his clothes and pushed him down on the bed, so that he was lying on his tummy.

I took a moment to appreciate the sight of his bare ass while I took off my own clothes. I guess that it was kind of weird to use the word _beautiful_ when you were describing someone's backside, but there wasn't any other way that I could think of to convey the perfectness of his butt. I also allowed myself a little fantasy, while I admired him, one that involved him moving between my thighs, filling me so completely and perfectly, bringing me closer and closer to the edge, while I ran my hands down his back, tracing and caressing his bulging muscles, further and further, until my palms found, and gripped, his beautiful, plunging…..

"Can I take my hands out of this ice yet?" he called to me, over his shoulder, and the look that came into his eyes when he saw me standing there, bare-assed naked, made that fluttery quiver between my thighs grow, until it was a frantic throbbing. "I'm getting a little cold down here, all by my lonesome, my smoochie little _Explosiva_."

Oh, help. The use of the "smoochie" in that sexy voice that he always insisted on employing was bad enough, it was enough to make me weak in the knees, and he knew it too, but adding an "Explosiva" to the mix was enough to make my toes curl against the floor. I forced myself to walk across the floor, when what I wanted to do was run, and then I climbed onto the bed, and clambered on top of him, straddling him, you might say, so that I was resting right on top of that flawless ass that I admired so much.

"Let me see your knuckles, Baboo," I said, bending forward and pressing my girls against his back. I smiled when I heard him moan, deep down in his throat, and took hold of his hands, so that I could determine whether or not the swelling had gone down. "Hmm…they look much better, so I don't see any reason why you should keep going with the ice, not if you don't want to."

I leaned forward and grabbed the bowls, which made him groan, and placed them on the bedside table, trading them for some lotion, and that made him growl. I suppose that I shouldn't have been smiling so much, because I knew that I was torturing him, and he was bound to pay me back, but I just couldn't help myself. I squeezed a big dollop of the lotion in my hands and rubbed my palms together until they were warm, and then I went to work on his back, starting right above his butt and working my way up, massaging out each and every knot, and taking special care with his shoulder, so I wouldn't cause him anymore pain that what he'd already given himself.

I must have been doing a good job, because he kept making these noises, something that was a cross between a growl and a moan, and it wasn't long before they started working on me, making me even hotter than I already was. And as if that wasn't enough, he started moving around beneath me, raising himself up, to bump against me in just the right way, and before I knew it, I was the one who was making all kinds of noises…ones that ended with a quick intake of breath, followed by a whimper, when he rolled over onto his back without any warning and changed things so that I was no longer straddling an impeccable ass, now I was pressed up against a magnificent, and fully aroused, bit of masculinity instead.

*I imagine that there are those of you who are screaming at your computer at this moment, and throwing all sorts of vile insults in my direction for being such a tease, but I had to end things here. "And why in the hell did you have to do that, Miss Mary?" The answer is one that makes perfect sense, at least, it does to me, and that is because the next chapter will be the one where Tommy and Lily finally…hmm…well, you _know_, and I felt like they deserved an entire chapter devoted solely to their first time, wouldn't you agree?*


End file.
